


Be The One

by silver9mm



Series: Built Another World [4]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anxiety, Child Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Dark, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Violence, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Medication, Mental Illness, Molestation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prequel, Schizophrenia, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-27 08:11:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6276445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver9mm/pseuds/silver9mm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was rare though not unheard of, but Jared had never assumed <em>he</em> had a mate. An omega that was his and his alone, until death separated them. Like puzzle pieces, was the way it was explained to children in school, during health class and social studies and sex education, some Alphas and every omega had a biological match, a perfect fit. Receptors in their brains designed to connect, to come to life, when they found each other. It was the stuff of romance novels and made for TV movies and blockbuster hits, two people meant to be but separated by insurmountable odds, finally finding each other. Odd couples, perfect strangers, cookie cutters, it didn’t matter, if you came across the person that fit your chemistry the right way, nothing in the world could keep you apart.</p><p>The scent on his hand was slowly diminishing, and it made Jared ache. Pressure in his chest, at his throat, it made his palms burn, and he wanted to weep.</p><p>No. <em>No.</em></p><p>There was no reason to let it fade, to lament. He knew where the omega was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prequel to [ Becoming Less Defined](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2141112).  
> Title from Be The One by Moby  
> [Soundtrack!](http://8tracks.com/silver9mm/be-the-one)  
> Spoiler warnings for the comments if you haven't read the rest of this !verse yet.

“The plaintiff claims the defendant was negligent,” Stuart rattled in a bored voice slurred slightly by the pen in his mouth. “Mixed-up medicines, renal failure, blindness. The Barnes family will settle out of court—” Stuart squinted at the paper in front of him. “Not bad, Jay, not bad at all.”

Nodding to himself, the attorney leaned back in his chair and pushed his glasses up onto his forehead, rubbing one eye and peering with the other at the young law student across the table. “You did good. Best we kept the doctor off the stand. He’s not the most…sympathetic of characters, is he?”

Jared pressed his lips into a tight line, but shook his head in agreement. He knew what was said over the desk between lawyers stayed over the desk, but he still felt uncomfortable badmouthing clients, even if it was the absolute truth. Doctor Alastair Heier was as icy as they came, and had a way of holding himself that was more schoolyard bully than compassionate physician: all hip and shoulder, chin tucked, long-lidded eyes half closed, the whites under pale blue-grey irises showing. Jared recalled some vague fact in a book he’d read when he was fifteen or so about that being a common physical trait amongst serial killers. Doctor Heier—or Alastair, as he insisted on being referred to—definitely gave Jared the creeps, but he felt it was very unprofessional to say so out loud, even around colleagues.

And besides, he wasn’t exactly anyone’s _colleague_ , per se. He had yet to take his Bar Exam. And when he did, in a month at most, it was going to be for criminal law. But Stuart Holmes had taken Jared under his wing when he’d begun his intern at the office, had offered his time to tutor Jared, show him the ropes, and one thing he recommended was getting his hands dirty with as many different kinds of cases as he could.

So here Jared was, helping the attorney run through a rather easy medical malpractice suit, shuffling files across town, talking to the distraught family and the strange, preoccupied doctor who had enough money he didn’t bat an eye at the amount it would take to make the problem just…go away.

“As long as it stays out of the papers and doesn’t waste my time any further, they can have whatever they want,” Alastair had said, managing to loom over Jared even though they were the same height.

That had been the second time they’d met, and the first time Jared had been on his own with the man. Stuart had been with them before, when they’d gone over the lawsuit in detail. It had been in the conference room at the office, a semi-casual affair. Stuart advised Jared to dress neatly, but not over-do it. So many seasoned attorneys let themselves get frumpy. Wore the same suits for years, believing their prowess and reputation outshined however drunk or sleep-rumpled they appeared in court or meeting clients, and hotshot young lawyers tended to overdress, overcompensating for their lack of experience by looking like they were already making money.

“A clean shirt, tucked in, nice slacks, shiny shoes, good enough. You don’t want to come across cocky, but let’s not be sloppy, either,” Stuart said, straightening his own tie and fingering through what was left of his hair, short cropped and greying. The Beta was a handsome man with a warm smile. Middle-aged and married to another Beta who worked in taxes two floors down, and the woman’s scent mixed pleasantly with Stuart’s own, creating a bright, lively aroma that Jared was only minorly aware of. He was completely unconscious of his own scent; that he radiated a wild and sharp pheromone, trailed it down the hallways, left it in elevators and offices and taxis.

Jared was an Alpha, young and unmated, barely twenty-three years old, still slightly awkward in his six-foot-four frame. Thin and lanky, he had a runner’s body: steel-cord muscles under a glowing tan. Running was the only thing he had time for right now, and was one of the few moments in his life he felt like himself. He needed to run. From his trashed, tiny downtown apartment conveniently located halfway between his college and his work, and back to it when he stopped for a breath and the world caught up to him and he realised how alone he was, and that he’d done it to himself.

He ran, leaving a desolate wind in his wake that Betas were hardly affected by, other Alphas wrinkled their noses at, but had omegas shivering when they crossed its path, instinct urging them to soothe an Alpha so lonely and miserable as the one pounding his sorrows into the pavement.

Running kept Jared from fighting, from drinking, and fucking around, wasting his time and money. He had too much of those last two things for someone his age, but he knew it and was grateful his father had instilled in him discipline and a sense of responsibility, an understanding of the inevitability of the future. So Jared ran, studied away his final year of college, worked hard at the law office, and ran more, and repeat, until he was tired enough to add sleep to his routine, and tried not to dream. He woke abruptly and ran again, leaving the dreams of cold, deep water and colder, far-away stars behind.

Stuart was bouncing the pen off the short stack of papers Jared had been chauffeuring around town the last two weeks, and Jared jumped a little when the older Beta suddenly snapped the pen down on the desk. Stuart leaned back in his chair and stretched, wincing, and only then did Jared notice a faint tang to the man’s scent. He was rubbing his eyes again, too.

“Migraine?” Jared asked, getting up and going to mini fridge Stuart had tucked away behind a file cabinet.

“Thanks, Jay,” Stuart said, accepting the bottle Jared brought back to him. He fished a small tin out of his shirt pocket and popped it open, using the water to wash down two tiny dark blue pills. “Yeah. Season change always does it. Listen, I hate to ask, but could you stay and get these signed? Doctor, uh, Heier will be by in an hour or so, and then we’re done with this. Just a signature, here and—” He tore off a sticky-note and pasted the orange marker under a blank line, and flipped through the stack to mark a dozen more places.

He peered up at Jared, wincing.

“Sure. No problem, Stu. Leave it on your desk when we’re done?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Stuart replied, already fumbling for his briefcase and jacket, fishing for his cell phone. “I’ll be in tomorrow morning to fax it. You have a good weekend.”

“You, too. Feel better. Tell Lois hello for me.”

Stuart nodded briefly and, shielding his eyes with one hand, he hurried out of the room and disappeared.

Jared sighed. He didn’t mind staying an hour by himself. He could always study, his textbooks in his messenger bag. It was the knowledge he’d be alone with Alastair that bothered him. Hopefully, the doctor wouldn’t want to read over every last detail of the suit and would just sign-where-indicated and Jared could forget all about the Alpha and his chilly demeanour and his stinging scent.

The time went by without Jared noticing. He tidied up Stuart’s office, bemused at how it was always easier to clean up someone else’s mess rather than one’s own, and then opened his books. It wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of his watch as he skimmed a finger down a page that he realised it had been almost two hours since Stuart left.

The number for Alastair’s clinic was on a business card clipped inside the main folder in the filing cabinet, and Jared thumbed it in. He identified himself when a too-cheerful for working late on a Friday night receptionist answered, and was informed that the doctor _was_ on his way to the meeting. He’d been held back at work, and was very sorry, but should be there any minute.

Jared checked his reflection in the mirror in Stu’s private bathroom. He glared his hazel eyes at the flippy curls on his neck, impatient for his hair to grow back out. He’d cut the chestnut mess in a fit of self-abuse, mad at himself. At everything, really. There was still strands of it on the floor of his apartment, eight months later. He shoved long fingers through his bangs and tugged at the curls, trying to train them back down over his ears. He’d picked up on some of Stuart’s headache, squinted into the mirror, the lights too bright. His eyes were showing a lot of amber tonight, less of the blue-green he preferred. His step-brother Luke used to tease him about secretly being an omega because of the gold hue that showed up sometimes, insisting it was just another shade of brown. Jared put his tongue to his left canine, prodding the half-inch long tooth. No omega in the world had teeth like that.

A knock on the office door and Jared dashed out, still tugging his hair.

“Alastair,” he greeted, making an effort to forgo formalities so the weird Alpha couldn’t correct him. He couldn’t pin down why the man was so off-putting. He just was. His scent was stale and cold, his manner calculating and oddly judgemental for someone in his profession, as if he was constantly on guard against some slight.

“Good evening, Mr. Wesson. _Terribly_ sorry I am so late. I do apologise. I had an unexpected upset at the clinic that I had to oversee myself. I had Amelia call Mr. Holmes—”

“It’s fine,” Jared interrupted casually. “Stuart went home early. I had things to do, so it’s no problem to wait. Here, have a seat.” He opened the door fully and pointed. When Alastair moved past him, it was as if he’d pulled all the heat from the rest of the building in with him. It washed over Jared in a slow wave, seemed to seep into him, making his stomach burn pleasantly like the first shot of expensive whisky. He opened his mouth and tasted a flame. Perfect and pure, and it lit something inside him, at the base of his brain, white-hot but not dangerous. It was soft, comfortable, illuminating a place that had been afraid of the dark this whole time.

Alastair was speaking, an annoying drone. Jared tried to listen, picked up on sentence fragments and keywords, little else. His legs, watery at the joints, had walked him back to the desk, though not to the chair across from Alastair. He was hovering, standing closer to the other Alpha than was polite. Flipping through the documents, complementing Jared on the detail paid to the matter, Alastair was too preoccupied to notice Jared’s closeness.

Jared took the moment of distraction to taste the air around the other man. Cold, still, lifeless. That’s what Jared had come to recognise him as, strangely _uniform_. No variety to his scent, as if his emotions never shifted. But he knew that wasn’t true, had seen the doctor get impatient and irritated, amused occasionally, but his scent never wavered from the dry, hostile emanation Jared was picking up on now. Yet, there was something alive in the wasteland of Alastair’s pheromones suddenly, and it was making Jared’s heart race. He closed his eyes, concentrating, trying to pinpoint the source. When he opened his eyes, Alastair was looking up at him.

“I should have changed before coming,” the doctor said.

“W-what?” Jared stuttered, and then it hit him. The scent _obviously_ wasn’t coming from Alastair, and Jared blushed like a rutting teenager, stepping back so abruptly he banged into the table, bruising his thigh. “I’m very sorry. Sorry, I don't know—I didn’t mean—”

Alastair leaned back in his chair, crossing long legs, one knee over the other. He waved his fingers dismissively. “Happens to the best of us. It’s the patient I had to see to that kept me from being here on time. Had an emergency, and the poor thing is in heat. Atypical fluctuations in heat intensity can be caused by certain medication combinations and is the case with the patient. I am used to it, and it’s the reason I employ mostly Betas at the clinic, so I tend to forget the effect it can have on other Alphas.”

Jared tried to reply, to say something, _anything_ , that would cover up his embarrassment at scenting another Alpha as though they were an omega ready to be bred, but his lips felt numb, his tongue slow and dumb to command. Instead, he nodded, as if knowing the reason had made him immune to it. In reality, it felt like he’d been shocked. His muscles were trembling, his core shaking. Palms sweating, and he was thickening in his slacks. He sat down on the other side of the desk with very little control over the descent, making Stuart’s well-used chair squeak in protest. It wasn’t as if he’d never been around an omega in heat before. It _was_ distracting, to say the least, but it had never been like _this._ Just putting a couple feet of distance between himself and the scent lingering on Alastair was like waking from sleep and finding out someone had taken Jared’s legs, as if his heart was being slowly extracted while he watched.

Somehow, he got through the hour it took to explain and sign the documents. Alastair was cordial and cooperative and, if he noticed Jared was slow to respond, that his eyes glazed over occasionally, the way he was breathing, nostrils flared, he made no further mention of it. He praised Jared’s work again; Jared had put the case together almost completely by himself, Stuart only seeing the final draft and correcting a few mistakes. While Jared had not _won_ the case, he had kept Alastair from the papers, out of court, managed the amount of the settlement to a reasonable sum, and it was only after Alastair said he’d be interested in keeping Jared’s contact information in case there was need of his services again, and had sat, waiting for an answer, that Jared was able to shake off the omega’s scent. Momentarily.

“I don’t even have my degree yet. I haven’t taken the Bar exam. I’m working here with an apprenticeship. It’s not costing me as much as finishing law school will—”

Alastair deftly flipped a card from his pocket. It was different from the one Jared had used to call his office earlier, had on it what Jared assumed to be Alastair’s personal office number and what appeared to be a cell number, as well.

“I know people, Jared. People at Mary’s Exemplum. That’s where your first year was completed, was it not?”

Jared nodded automatically. How did Alastair know where he was going to school? Why did he suddenly have such an interest in Jared? And how was it possible that the omega’s scent that was driving Jared to distraction seemed to have saturated even this card? Jared wanted to press it to his lips, to his heart. He placed it on the table in front of him.

“I-I appreciate the offer, Alastair—”

“Good,” the Alpha said, standing, spidery-limbed, and eyes heavy-lidded. “Think about what you really want to be doing, son; if an apprenticeship is going to get you as far as a full ride could. You’ve got a lot of talent. I can see that. Stuart certainly thinks so.” Alastair offered his hand. “I do appreciate the hard work you and he put into this case. Unfortunate circumstances, but we all made the best of it, and you did a very good job.”

Jared shook the hand extended to him, and then curled his own into a fist, gripping the scent left there as if he could keep it from escaping. Alastair rattled off a few more thanks and a good evening and then took his discomforting self out of the room, and it was as if a shadow fell across Jared. He put his hand to his face, the one Alastair had touched, and he closed his eyes, lips to fist. Breathed deep. Alastair’s scent was already fading. It was so peculiar! Alpha pheromones usually lingered: heavier, stronger, longer lasting. Biological markers that claimed territory and mates and announced intention, they were designed to have staying power. Alastair’s was strong enough at first, but had faded to almost nothing already. What was still there, clinging like sugar, was the omega. Perfect, sweet, rich and complex and things Jared didn’t have the emotional diversity to understand. It was _everything_.

Jared found himself back at the desk, looking down at his hand. His cock was hard again. Not insistently so, just thick and warm against his leg, throbbing slightly with his elevated pulse. He thought about jerking off right there. It was Friday and the weekend would give plenty of time for his scent to fade from the office. But it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t that sort of irritating itch to scratch, like when he bought skin mags sometimes, full of glossy wet-eyed and slick-thighed omegas, and the synthetic heat-scent wafting from the pages made his brain dull with need, none of it really _mattering_. This mattered, this palmful of scent. Somehow, this was so important.

He knew what it was. Jared wasn’t stupid or uneducated, or uncivilised for that matter. With Alastair gone and his work responsibilities over, and his hand heavy with warmth and safety and…and love, he knew.

 _My omega_ , he thought. _My mate. Mine._

It was rare though not unheard of, but Jared had never assumed _h_ _e_ had a mate. An omega that was his and his alone, until death separated them. Like puzzle pieces was the way it was explained to children in school, during health class and social studies and sex education, some Alphas and every omega had a biological match, a perfect fit. Receptors in their brains designed to connect, to come to life, when they found each other. It was the stuff of romance novels and made for TV movies and blockbuster hits, two people meant to be but separated by insurmountable odds, finally finding each other. Odd couples, perfect strangers, cookie cutters, it didn’t matter, if you came across the person that fit your chemistry the right way, nothing in the world could keep you apart.

The scent on his hand was slowly diminishing, and it made Jared ache. Pressure in his chest, at his throat, it made his palms burn, and he wanted to weep.

No. _No._

There was no reason to let it fade, to lament. He knew where the omega was.


	2. Chapter 2

The ‘clinic’ wasn’t any such thing, Jared noted, pulling into the parking lot across the street. A behavioral health hospital, the sign said. It was an institution. It was almost a jail. The front entrance section was pleasant enough, but the wings on either side, partially obscured by tall walls and trees, were stark and unwelcoming and had barred windows.

“It’s about a case I am working on for him,” Jared lied. “My phone isn’t working and I needed to talk to him right away. If you can just point me in the right direction.”

“Just a moment, sir,” the Beta said, pushing buttons on the phone. “He’s not in his office and not responding to a page,” he was informed shortly. “He must be out of the office.”

“Well—” he started, and at that moment, someone came through the coded doors. Jared heard a shout from the Beta, but he kept going, ignored the startled look he got from the young man in a lab coat he brushed by, and pulled the door closed behind him. It would give him a few seconds head start, at least.

Luck was on his side. At the far end of the hall, a woman with a cart loaded with fresh sheets and personal clothes on hangers was struggling through another coded door. Jared sprinted down to help her. She smiled tiredly but paid him no mind when he followed her through the door he held open for her. The door beeped and clicked shut behind him, and he took a deep, open-mouthed breath. Under the smell of food, fighting through the antiseptic cleaners, and mingled like sunshine in the heavy fog of fear and grief and madness that was in this section of the building, Jared could sense his omega. He was close.

Jared trotted around the corner, knowing he didn’t have much time before security or whoever caught up with him. The scent was stronger as he moved deeper into the building, and he nearly slipped backtracking when he passed another hallway and the scent seemed to reach out to him, coil around his throat, choking him. His slippery dress shoes almost lost purchase, but he slapped the wall as he stumbled and pushed himself off it and down the corridor. His omega was here, _right here._ Somewhere.

There were a couple dozen rooms, most of them empty, dark. A few had lights on but held no interest for him. Betas, an Alpha, they were not what he was looking for, and Jared started to panic as he neared the end. There was another set of locked doors and only three rooms left before he hit it. If the omega was on the other side of those doors, he doubted his luck would hold to get him through. The last room closest to the doors was dimly lit inside, and Jared could see a shadow moving around. He slowed his pace even though he wanted to rush to the door and yank it off its hinges. This was where he needed to be. Two things made him sure of it, and the first turned his stomach. Alastair. He could smell the Alpha: cold, oily, coagulated. Aroused. He wasn’t in the room; the scent was old, but it was heavy in the air, as if Alastair came here often enough the area never really had a chance to fade.

Jared snorted like an animal, clearing his sinuses. He could hear voices behind him somewhere, knew they were looking for him. He edged closer to the door, put his face to the crack and inhaled. Alastair still, but the air coming from inside the room was saturated with omega. Heat. Need and fear and pain, and Jared closed his eyes as his own body responded. He felt his face flush, his palms sweat where they’d burned before when he’d been losing this scent on the card. His balls ached. He swayed for a moment, forehead to the door. Someone was speaking, muffled by the metal between them. There was a little window in the door, double paned, thick safety glass, and he peered through it.

A nurse was in the room, moving about, talking softly to someone. The omega. Jared found him in the dimness, huddled on a narrow bed. He was wearing hospital-issued pants, thin and too short, low around his narrow hips and showing his ankles. He was shirtless, well-muscled arms around his middle, his chest defined, his shoulders broad and strong even though they were hunched over. Dark blond, or light brown, Jared couldn’t decide, but the omega’s hair was messy and matted with sweat. His dark eyes, flashing gold, followed the woman around nervously, and though she kept talking the whole time, the omega never replied, just watched her, curled around himself. He looked young; Jared’s age, maybe younger.

At first Jared thought it was just shadows on the omega’s face, but when he shivered hard enough it rocked his body on the bed and he twisted his neck, stretching the way an omega does when its body hurt without an Alpha to soothe it, Jared could tell the shadows weren’t moving; those were bruises.

Someone had hurt his omega.

Jared had the doorknob in his hand before he realised it. It wouldn’t turn, just gave a small rattle. The nurse didn’t notice, but the omega did. His eyes darted to the window and met Jared’s. Jared gasped and his other hand came up. He pressed it flat against the glass, wanting, _needing_ , to touch the boy inside the room more than he’d ever needed anything else in this life.

The omega flinched as if Jared _had_ touched him, drew back against the wall, panic in every taut line of his body. He was so obviously afraid, and Jared couldn’t take it. Rage rushed through him, made him bare his fangs in an age-old instinct he’d never felt before. Whatever had been done to this omega was now a personal affront to Jared, and whoever had done it would pay.

His expression only terrified the omega more. He saw the boy’s mouth fall open in shock, a _what have I done?_ look of childish fear, and his head dropped to his knees; hiding. Jared stepped back, his hand to his mouth, covering the snarl and pissed at himself. Just as he cleared the window, he caught a glimpse of the nurse turning towards the door, leaving, pockets full, a clipboard in one hand, keycard in the other. When the door opened, Jared snatched the key from her easily and pulled her into the hallway before she even had time to protest.

“I’m sorry. Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt him,” he said over his shoulder as he slipped into the room and closed the door on her. “It’s okay!” he said, stupidly, he knew, but he didn’t care. She peered in the window, alarmed, and shook the handle. He heard her yelling something, but it was easy to tune out now that he was exactly where he had been meant to be since the day he was born.

The omega’s bed squeaked behind him, but Jared concentrated, scanning the room. Against the wall on the floor near the door was just what he needed: two rubber wedge doorstops. He nudged them under the gap in the door and kicked them tightly in place with the toe of his shoe. It would buy him just a little more time. He turned. The omega twitched closer to the wall away as he neared.

The omega was beautiful. Closer to him now, Jared could see his large, expressive eyes were lined with thick dark lashes that swept down over high cheekbones. He had a delicate nose, made even more perfect by a small bump along the bridge. Eyelids and cheeks and nose, he was sprinkled with freckles. Shoulders, too, and Jared was sure they didn’t stop there. His lips looked petal soft and full, and the omega sucked them between even, white teeth. He flinched again as Jared took another step.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. Is that what you think? I would never hurt you,” Jared said, the most heartfelt promise he’d ever made. “I want to help you. I… I want…” _You. I want you so much. I want to hold you and never let go. Take you away from here. I want to love you and make you mine._

The omega didn’t move, didn’t reply, but he wasn’t drawing away anymore. He blinked slowly, and mixed into his summer scent was something artificial, dull and metallic. The omega was drugged. Some kind of sedative, Jared guessed with the way he was moving, as if underwater. Another slow blink, and _those eyes_. Brilliant gold highlights in deep brown irises; Jared was sure there were none in the world as wonderful. They flickered and flashed like holiday lights, like the stars in the desert sky, like an electrical storm. When his eyes were still, as they were now, focused on Jared, they were flakes of gold foil over dark chocolate, but as they moved, a rainbow was created. Every gemstone Jared knew about shined there.

Jared closed his own eyes for a second, trying to find solid ground. Everything was shivering around him, wavering. His heart was racing, stomach a tight knot, and he was trying not to hyperventilate on the omega’s scent, to breathe it in as fast, as much, as he could.

“What’s your name?” he asked when he could form words again.

“Jen,” was the quiet answer.

“Jen. Jen,” he repeated, the name sweet golden wine on his tongue. “I’m Jared.”

Jen blinked at him, and then his lightning-shot eyes followed Jared down as he went to one knee.

“I won’t hurt you, Jen,” he said once more and reached out.

It was hard to find a place on his beautiful face that wasn’t bruised, so Jared kept his touch light, but he had to touch him. Jen’s hair was just long enough to curl around the tips of his fingers as he trailed them along his neck, and when the omega didn’t pull away, Jared cupped his palm gently along his jaw, and he wanted to weep. Jen smelled of fear and hurt and confusion, an acrid reek like nothing Jared had ever experienced before, but under that was a radiant warmth, a summer flower buried in a landslide, crushed to almost oblivion, and Jared brushed his hand over Jen’s cheek as if he could clear the weight from him. As if it would be that easy.

The omega made a noise, his throat pulsed against Jared’s hand, and his mouth opened slightly, and Jared knew kissing those lips would be the end of him. There would be the Jared before that moment, and the Jared after, and they would be two completely different men.

“You know who I am,” Jared said, his voice unfamiliar in his own ears, sounding raw and fierce, possessive, though that was what he was trying to hold back more than anything. He didn’t want Jen to feel any more cornered than he already must in this place, and the way Jen had looked at him through the window flashed through his mind.

Jen’s eyes were bright and glossed with unshed tears. A lifetime’s worth, probably. He swallowed once, and Jared moved his hand down, instinct making him slip it behind Jen’s neck, over the spot that would bring any omega into submission, but he didn’t put pressure there. He just stroked his fingers up along Jen’s spine, and the omega closed his eyes and turned his face into Jared’s arm. He took a deep, slow breath, and when he opened his eyes, they were swimming with gold and overflowing, and his lips moved against Jared’s skin.

“My Alpha,” Jen said.

Jared sobbed. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to laugh, and cry, too. Scream with joy and crawl right up over Jen and crouch around him and protect him from whatever was happening to him that he was in this place, from whoever had hurt him so badly that he looked the way he did now, bruised and hollowed. Wanted to protect him from the world.

“Yeah,” he said instead, as calmly as he could, biting back a grin, trying not to flash his fangs. Jen was still frightened, that much was terribly obvious. “Yeah, Jen. I’m your Alpha, and I’m going to take you home with me if you want to go. Do you want to come with me?”

There was a thump behind him and he started, his hand clenching on Jen’s neck. At the pressure, the omega’s body arched, and the sickly-sweet scent of arousal hit Jared. Made his senses reel, made him hard painfully fast. He jerked his hand away from Jen and watched, horrified, as the omega fell forward and adjusted himself on the bed. Hands almost overlapped, he tucked them under his chest and turned his face to the wall, cheek to the mattress. On his knees, he bowed his back and stuck his ass in the air. Presented.

The thump was followed by a keyring rattling and Jared forced himself to his feet, every instinct in his body screaming at him to cover the omega— _his_ omega, and take what was being offered.

 _You will not_ , he reprimanded himself, shocked at how hard it was to control what he wanted to do. He heard voices outside the door, Alastair’s among them, and the thought of others coming near Jen while he was in this position infuriated Jared.

“Jen,” he growled, “stop it. Get up. You don’t have to do that.”

There was no response, so Jared reached down and grabbed his shoulder, intending to pull him up, but Jen moved with striking speed, twisting his head around and sinking his teeth into Jared’s wrist. He jerked away, leaving skin and blood behind, but Jen scrambled to his knees, slamming himself back against the wall, and he grinned up at Jared with a bloody mouth.

“Another fucking Alpha rapist, gotta fight for it this time, big boy,” the omega sang out, his voice high and accented. Something east coast, Jared numbly cataloged.

The door finally banged open, bringing a rush of bodies and antiseptic air and food smells with it, all of which made Jared want to gag. He was already so used to Jen’s scent, and being alone with him, it felt like an invasion even though he was the intruder here. He steadied himself as two men rushed by him and grabbed onto Jen, using every last bit of willpower he had to not interfere. He could be patient, he could see this through. He’d found his omega. That was the important part. Now it was a matter of time, of rules and paperwork and waiting, and he had practice with that. What he did not know how to handle was seeing the two burly Betas pin his omega to the wall as Jen fought and screamed in a voice incompatible with his body, and the smell of Jen’s fear and anger and arousal tornadoing around him. He felt a hand on his arm and turned to see Alastair’s eyes on the bite at his wrist.

“It’s nothing,” Jared said, removing his arm from Alastair’s hold. “I didn’t mean to cause alarm. I—tonight, you—I… His scent…on you. I knew he had to be here.”

Alastair clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth and nodded slowly, and if Jared hadn’t been utterly focused on Jen struggling and thrashing on his bed, giving the orderlies a workout despite there being two of them, he would have been more aware of how the doctor’s nostrils flared as a drop of Jared’s blood hit the floor, would have seen his lip pull over his teeth in a snarl that was grounds for fighting in any other situation concerning an omega and ownership, and he would have noticed the way Alastair’s scent spiked, adding a chill to the room. But none of those things made an impression on Jared. Jen was the only thing he could care about, now and forever.

“Doctor?” one of the Betas called, trying to get his knee over Jen’s legs as the omega lashed out, aiming to break bones.

“Jensen!” Alastair barked. The omega jerked at the doctor’s voice and he seemed to still just a little, breathing hard. “Is this any way to act? Any way to greet your Alpha?”

Like a mask dropping away, Jen’s face changed, became soft again. “Alpha,” he repeated, and his eyes found Jared. “Alpha, I’m sorry!” he cried, and then he screamed again when Alastair approached him, syringe in hand. “No! No, no, no, please, I’m sorry—”

And then, as easy as a breath, the other voice slipped out of him, laughing and careless. “Where’d you get this one, huh? Should charge him double, bet he’s got a monster dick. Fucking pimp! Pig, asshole, gonna have to hold us down, not a fucking kid anymore—” Another breath, another voice, childlike and fearful, and Jared wanted to cover his ears when Jen shrieked and screamed for his mommy when Alastair jabbed the needle into his shoulder. Jen spasmed, knocking one of the Betas away and before Alastair could grab him, he whipped forward and then back, slamming his head against the wall, once, twice, then the other Beta pinned him down. Just before his eyes rolled up, flickering like fire, they found Jared, and he knew it was Jen, and that at least he would be the last thing his omega saw before he went to sleep.

At Alastair’s gesture, the orderlies pulled the bed away from the wall and rolled the limp omega onto his back and busied themselves securing him to the bed, wrists and ankles, with soft cuffs and thick nylon straps that were bolted to the bed frame. Alastair waited until they were done and then checked the omega’s vitals: pulse, eyes, the lump on the back of his head.

“Anna, check in on him every ten minutes, and let me know as soon as he wakes up.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Alastair turned to Jared, but only when the doctor reached out to touch him, to get his attention, did Jared look away from Jen, and this time he could see…something on Alastair’s face. He drew back from the extended hand. Alastair dropped his back into his pocket and tilted his head and, reluctantly, Jared followed him out of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I apologise—” Jared started.

“No need, Mr. Wesson,” Alastair said cooly. “I should be congratulating you, to be honest. It’s a rare and wonderful thing to find your omega, and I can’t blame you for acting rashly once you were on the scent. But,” he said, sighing the word as he ushered Jared into his office, “as you just witnessed, your new mate is not without his flaws.”

“He’s crazy.”

Alastair sighed again and then smiled, hiding fangs. “We tend to avoid that word around here. But yes. He is. Jensen—”

“That’s his name? Jensen?” Jared wanted to close his eyes and say the name to himself, to conjure up the gorgeous face that went with it. He could taste Jen— _Jensen_ —on his tongue still, his senses saturated with the omega’s honey-spiked fear, and he had to bite his cheek to ground himself. The last ten minutes had left his nerves frayed, had him aroused, shaky. Aggressive and territorial.

“Jensen Campbell, yes. He’s been here a long time, Mr. Wesson. Most of his life. A ward of the state after his mother and then his caretaker died, he’s never once been fit enough to leave or live on his own. And, Jared, I want you to understand this: an Alpha won’t make him better. I am not even sure he’s capable of bonding.”

The thought staggered Jared. He groped for a chair and fell into it. If Jensen couldn’t bond, Jared couldn’t claim him. He could mark Jensen but it wouldn’t change anything. There would be no chemical reaction inside him; he would seem unmated to everyone else. To other Alphas. Jared wouldn’t own him properly.

“How… How is that possible? What’s _wrong_ with him?”

Alastair studied Jared for a long moment, but Jared was too aggrieved to bristle at the prolonged eye contact. He just stared back, lost. Finally, Alastair lifted his chin, nodding to himself and Jared couldn’t care why. He went to a filing cabinet and unlocked it. Using both hands, he pulled a huge file from the top drawer and carried it to Jared, setting it down on the desk in front of him. Alastair perched on the edge of the table next to it and poked the papers with one finger.

“This is what’s wrong with him, my boy. _A lot._ I’ve been working for, oh, eighteen years to set him right. Mostly without success. He’s both medication sensitive and resistant to them. He’s autistic, schizophrenic, has dissociative identity disorder—commonly known as multiple personalities—”

“Those voices,” Jared said, looking at the inches of paper under Alastair’s index finger.

“Indeed. Those voices; the ones he speaks, and the ones he hears. Sometimes he doesn't speak at all. Selective mutism. Anxiety, paranoia, severe post-traumatic stress.” Alastair flipped open the file and picked through until he found a green sheet. “The hippocampal areas of the temporal lobes on both sides of his brain show abnormalities, which reduce long-term memory retention. His oxytocin, vasopressin, dopamine, and DHEA levels are all irregular and sometimes fluctuate on a daily basis. He rejects medication consistently; I have to switch and adjust them as needed. He’s prone to self-harm, outbursts like the one you witnessed a few minutes ago. He is quite capable of hurting others, as well as himself.”

Jared couldn’t look away from the file. To have his mate reduced to a pile of papers, to hear him described in terms that Jared only knew from procedural cop shows, was horrifying. Frightening and overwhelming. He couldn’t even remember half of what the doctor had just said was wrong with Jensen.

“What… What does all this _mean_ , though?” he heard himself ask inanely.

“It means,” Alastair said, and he leaned over close to Jared as he spoke, “that he should not leave here.”

Jared’s trance finally broke, and he stood so fast the chair scooted across the room and banged into another file cabinet. “No. He’s coming home with me. He’s _mine_. There are laws—”

It was as if Alastair couldn’t contain the smile that slithered across his face at Jared’s sudden rage. “Yes, Mr. Wesson, there are laws. Mating rights. Of course. But you do understand the danger with someone like Jensen, don’t you? A violent omega, a _dangerous_ omega. There are laws governing that, too.” Alastair stood, eye to eye with Jared, almost six and a half feet tall, both of them, but the doctor had twenty years on Jared and that much more experience with emotional outbursts. So calm as to be cold, unfeeling—though Jared suddenly thought of him as more of a black hole, a pit that was just sucking up Jared’s fear.

The doctor spoke, sibilant and soft. “If you can’t control him, Jared, Jensen could be taken away from you. Brought back here if you’re lucky. I’d allow you to visit him, of course. That’s if you’re lucky. If not, the authorities could hold him. Decide his fate. What if he _hurts_ someone? Hurts you, or another Alpha? The consequences of that are very, _very_ severe. You do understand that, don’t you?”

“I can’t,” Jared tried, had to stop and swallow around the tightness in his throat. Alastair was too close, was blocking what was left of Jensen’s scent, making Jared ache with loss and unsure of his purpose. He looked away from the Alpha standing almost toe to toe with him, gaze curtained, fangs showing just at the tips, a posture of attack, of waiting to see weakness. Jared found the stack of papers that was Jensen’s life in this place. He saw the words _injection_ , _restraint_ , _confinement_.

“I can’t leave him here. I can’t go without him.” He met Alastair’s gaze defiantly. “You can’t keep him from me.”

That awful smile again, and a lazy blink, then Alastair stepped back, gave Jared his space. “Of course not. And I wouldn’t dream of it. I just wanted you to know the complications and dangers involved. However, it’s not as if he can leave tonight. Now now,” he said, stopping Jared’s protest. “It’s simply a matter of release forms and following the very laws we’ve mentioned. He’s been in state care a long time, and the state needs to know what’s happening. There will be forms to fill out for his discharge, and forms to put him into _your_ care. The fact is, he’s mentally ill and he can’t just be turned loose without the proper paperwork. You will become his legal guardian until such time as you are mated. Blood tests prove all that, as you know.

In the meantime, and possibly forever, this has to be done a certain way. You’ll also need to know about his medications, and he needs to come back to the clinic often. He’s got therapy sessions to continue and I would advise you very strongly to see that he does continue them. Stopping suddenly could be damaging, both physically and mentally.”

_He’s right. You know he’s right. Paperwork. This is something you’re good at. One more night. Tomorrow, you can wait until tomorrow._

Jared nodded, throat constricted. “I understand.”

“Good. That’s good, Jared. If you give me a little time here, I can put together some information for you, and get the paperwork started. It _is_ the weekend, you realise, so this might take until Monday to clear the proper stations.”

Jared couldn’t help his reaction, wanting to protest uselessly, but Alastair stopped him. “Just think of it as time to prepare yourself. And your home. I would advise… Well, I’ll make a checklist. If you’ll wait—”

“Can I see him again?” Jared blurted. He was burning with it. He needed to be near his omega more than anything. And right now.

“He’s heavily sedated and probably will not even know you’re there.”

“I don’t—that’s fine. I just need to see him.”

“Of course,” Alastair agreed, reluctance in his voice and manner. “I’ll—”

“I know the way.”

“A nurse should be with you.”

“Then send one.”

Jared was out of the office and down the hall before he heard a reply. Even if he hadn’t known the way by sight, he picked up on Jensen’s scent swiftly, and he had his own blood trail to follow. He’d forgotten all about his bitten hand and looked down at it now. Jensen’s teeth had ripped skin back. He’d probably have a scar. Jared smiled to himself. It was supposed to be the other way around, _he_ was supposed to scar the omega. But none of this was going to be normal. Alastair had assured him of that.

The omega’s door was open, propped so by one of the wedges he’d used to secure it shut. There was already a nurse in the room.

“You can’t be in—”

Jared snarled, the sound hurting his vocal cords, rumbling his chest. He was designed to do it, but his body was unaccustomed. He opened his mouth, bared his fangs, a show of dominance. He knew it was wrong. That it was childish and rude, but he had nothing left. He was exhausted and bewildered and scared, and the only peace available to him was tied to a bed, drugged into oblivion, and a sour-faced Beta was not going to get in his way.

“He’s my omega,” he growled. “ _Get_ _out_.”

The Beta paled and backed up, knocking into the wall before nodding once and turning to flee. Jared pulled a chair up next to the bed and sat.

Jensen wasn’t actually asleep. His shining eyes were slitted, the gold dim slivers between half-closed lids. He was weeping, and Jared reached out with his bitten hand and wiped away the trail that was wetting Jensen’s ear.

“I’m not afraid of you, Jen,” Jared whispered. “Bite me, try to hurt me, whatever. I’ll never not love you, I promise. Can you hear me, baby?”

He might have seen those gilded eyes twitch in response. Jensen was covered with a blanket, but Jared remembered he’d been shirtless before. He slipped his hand under the thin cloth and settled it over Jensen’s chest, or the dark swatch of a tattoo there. He was slick with sweat, skin incredibly soft, and Jared could feel Jensen’s heart beating hard under his palm. Moving the blanket had loosed the heady scent of Jensen’s heat, and Jared bent his head and closed his eyes, let it relax him, calm him even as his pulse picked up steadily, as blood rushed to his head, made his stomach flutter, filled his cock.

“I love you,” he murmured. “Please let me. I will never hurt you. I don’t know how to take care of you yet, but I’ll learn. I want to. I need you. I have to leave you here tonight, but I’ll come back tomorrow, I promise. Soon, you can come home with me. If…if you want to. I don’t have much of a home. A dirty apartment and not enough food, but we can make anywhere home. We’re meant to be together, Jensen. I hope you can hear me. I love you.”

“Alpha…”

Jared’s head snapped up, his eyes opened. Jensen was looking at him, dazed, but seeing him undoubtedly. Jared let out a little laugh, his own eyes filling.

“Yeah, baby. Jensen. I love you. I’ll be here tomorrow as soon as I can. We’ll be together. I can take care of you, okay? You don’t have to stay here.”

He said more, but he didn’t think the omega understood him. He kept talking anyway, as long as those pretty eyes remained open and on him.

Under his hand, Jensen’s heart slowed, calmed, and Jared’s matched it impossibly. That was a miracle in itself, that he wasn’t shaking with need, that he wasn’t agitated with the desire to claim his mate, to fuck Jensen through his heat as hard and often as possible. No, what he wanted was to crawl into the bed with the bruised boy and hold onto him, to sleep next to him and wake up with his sweet face close to his. Wanted just to touch him, pet him, kiss him, and if the omega wanted more, he’d give it, but he wouldn’t take. Jensen had had enough of his life taken from him.


	4. Chapter 4

Jensen took a deep breath. It burned his throat, hurt his chest, made his head start pounding. His wrists were being tugged at, unbuckled. His ankles were already free.

“Psst! Jenny? Wake up. Wake up wake up wake up wake up!” a soft female voice whispered excitedly.

“You’re the worst,” he groaned.

“Says you. Scoot over. Gross, wet!”

Jensen cracked his eyes open, saw the little redheaded omega hopping to grab a spare blanket from the cabinet above the sink. Watching her, moving his eyes, was like rubbing glass into them. He shut them again and rolled to the edge of the bed so she could spread the blanket over where he’d soaked the sheets with slick and sweat. Instead of climbing in, the girl shoved on his bed, pushing it across the room and back against the wall.

“Heavy ass,” she grunted as she finally clambered up behind him. He grunted in return. She didn’t say anything else, but he felt her hands on him. Shoulders and spine, she rubbed small circles into his muscles. After a while, Jensen relaxed slightly, hurt less. When he straightened his legs, the girl rubbed there too, toes running long lines down the backs of his calves. She was using her knuckles now, her forehead tucked against his neck as she reached between them and ground her fists into his lower back. He sighed, able to breathe again.

“Take it back,” he heard.

“You’re the best, Charlie.”

“Got that right. Man, weren’t you in heat just like, a month ago?”

“Yeah. Don’t—don’t stop.”

“I won’t. Just don’t start humping the wall.”

Jensen laughed, then winced as the movement made his head throb again.

“Jenny…what happened? Your face is all fucked up.”

“Is it?” He touched his cheek. It was sore, his temples too; his right eye felt numb around the brow. His forehead was swollen, so was the back of his head. The temples were the tell, though.

“I must’ve done it.” He felt Charlie’s massage pause, then her breath brushed his ear as she rested her chin on his shoulder.

“Don’t remember, huh?” He shook his head and wriggled against her. Her hands and toes took up their soothing work again, petting just a fraction of the pain of his heat away. “Jenny-bean, I love you. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“I know. I won’t. Nothing else worth remembering around here.”

But there was. His heart remembered before he did, hammering suddenly. And then his brain offered up clues. Eyes. Green and gold. Big hands, long fingers resting on his chest, touching his face. A scent that was strong and cool and _perfect._ Like a cloudless sky, like shade in the summer.

“Charlie!”

“Ah! What?”

He flipped around to face her, almost nose to nose. He grinned at her wide-eyed expression. “My Alpha. _My_ Alpha, Charlie. He was here! Tonight! Earlier, whatever. _He was here_!”

“Jenny, are you sure? I mean, I thought I smelled someone different, but sometimes with you—”

Jensen didn’t notice that she clamped down on the rest of the thought. He sat up, peering at his hands, the rest of his body, around the room, into the darkness as if he could see the traces of the Alpha on his skin, the floor.

“I’m sure! He was here. With me. And then…and then Alastair…” Jensen frowned. “He and Alastair… Did they come here together?” He huffed, frustrated, his hands fisting on his thighs. “I can’t fucking remember!”

“Hey, hey,” Charlie said, reaching out to stroke her friend’s back again. “Jen, if he really was here, he’ll come back for you. You were probably just too out of it, huh?”

“Fuck, Charlie. _Fuck_! I-I can’t be wrong, can I? He wasn’t just another doctor Alastair brought to see me. Was he?”

“I don’t know. You do see an awful lot of doctors.”

Jensen gave up looking for evidence and glanced down at her. “Yeah,” he said bitterly, “I do _see_ an _awful lot_ of doctors.” He sighed again and flopped back.

Fucked them, is what he meant, and they both knew it. Whatever was wrong with him from day to day, promiscuity was almost always in the current, and who could blame any Alpha for taking what was so eagerly offered? Jensen couldn’t even really blame himself. Most of the time he didn’t know it was happening until it was over with. What he thought was a dream, thought he was hearing happen in another room, happened to him, and the Alphas always smiled at him after, called him sweet names and hardly ever left him with bruises, so he must have wanted it to happen on some level. It wasn't like…like the dreams he had sometimes. Like the weird, disjointed thoughts that invaded his consciousness far too often.

Charlie tucked her chin on his shoulder again and used the heel of her right hand to rub along his collarbones and chest. She didn’t go any lower, and when she slipped her leg across his, she was careful to avoid his hips. His groin. His straining, leaking cock.

“What were you doing today?” he asked, sniffing back tears.

“Throwing up while looking at pictures of women kissing.”

“Fun.”

“Not so much. But I’ll keep my girlish figure that way.”

“That’s fucked up, Charlie. Do you think it’s working?”

“Well, I _definitely_ don’t want to look at more pictures while throwing up, that’s for sure.”

“That sucks.”

Charlie sighed, scratched her nails through the salt-stiff hair behind Jensen’s ear. “It’s okay. Pretty soon my mom will get tired of paying for this and I’ll get back to school and in a couple years, bam, north of the border, here I come. Until then, fake it til I make it, right?”

“That’s right,” Jensen murmured, sleep suddenly grabbing him like an undertow, dragging his thoughts and fears out into the darkness. He twitched, trying to fight it, but Charlie shushed him.

“Hey little buddy, just go to sleep. I’ll be right here til I get kicked out, okay? You’re safe.”

_The screen is so close to him it hurts his eyes to look at, but he has to. He can’t see anything else. On his back, strapped down tight; arms, legs, chest so he can barely breathe, across his forehead, the video screen looming over him, his slow tears cooling the heat of it on his face._

_“Look at that dirty little slut,” a voice near the crown of his head whispers. He moans because every time he hears it the heavy metal bracelets on his wrists heat up painfully. “Look at how used up and worthless she is. All those Alpha’s can just fuck their knots right in and out of her.”_

_A mass of bodies on the screen. Torsos and legs, huge hands, hairy bodies, all swarming around someone his own age. A girl, the awful voice tells him and his skin burns, and she’s a whore, she’ll never be any good to her own Alpha after this. Her body, soft and smooth and pale, bent over some kind of padded bench, her face out of frame, only her randomly heaving back visible. And her ass. Her legs are tied, one to the leg of the bench, the other up, bent at the knee, hips twisted so she’s exposed down there, pulled open. She’s so open, gaping and red and another Alpha pushes into her, knot like a fist jamming up against her opening and then into it. And out._

_The back he sees heaves again, the little hands tied down and spread away from her body clench into fists, and Jensen remembers. His cock was taped to his leg. He was throwing up into a pile of towels and the Alphas were laughing at him, complaining that his slick was sticky, thick, but it wasn’t stopping them from using him. He didn’t care about any of that, he couldn’t. If he does he starts to spin. The room tilts sickeningly, his eyes twitch hard in their sockets. That’s all he could think about, nausea too random for him to prepare for. All he could do was worry about when it was going to happen so he could get his mouth open in time, so the burning bile wouldn’t go up his nose again._

_He wants to throw up now._

_“No, you don’t!” the voice insists, and he doesn’t. He wants to scream instead when there’s a surging pain around his neck, a blistering sting that eclipses the heat at his wrists. “It’s not you. Her daddy fucked her and threw her away when he was all done with her. She is not you. Is she?”_

_He starts to say yes, and the pain comes. Like his flesh is being peeled off. Asked again. He says nothing and the same thing happens and if there wasn’t a soft something in his mouth, his teeth would be melting into each other. He hisses the other word around it and there is no pain. The gag is removed and little droplets of water hit his lips, his tongue._

_“Good boy.”_

_The gag again. He is—he is not. The girl on screen is covered in Alpha come. It’s dripping out of her as she squirms and squeals, and it can’t be him, the voice is too high. It’s not him. He feels relief. Asked again, he gets water immediately. No shocks, no heat at his wrists. Just water like he hasn’t had in two days. It had made his slick sticky with the lack of it._

_This shock is worse than the others and on the screen, Alphas are prying into her body with their hands, holding her open and trying to fit two thick dicks inside at the same time._

_He hears a new voice, a woman. He knows her, trusts her. She says, “It’s okay, Jenny. You just be good and get a drink of water.”_

Water on his lips. An old habit, drinking from the faucet. He’d been in this room, or one just like it, for most of his life and could maneuver around it with his eyes closed, no problem. They were closed. He was afraid if he opened them, he would see the screen again. It was hard to understand sometimes what was a dream and what wasn’t. What was reality versus imagination. Who he was or should be on a day to day basis.

He blindly shoved the water off and leaned, head down, hands bracing him, the cool metal and plastic of the cabinet a small relief to his fevered skin. Shocked skin, burned skin. No, that wasn’t him, either. Some other kid. Just a dream.

“Jen… Jensen?”

He didn’t know that voice. Wasn’t one of his. He sighed.

“Hey, Jenny-bean,” Charlie called, and she was tiptoeing up to him, a balmy little cloud. He loved her so much. She knew that, of course, and it was why she was brave enough to get near him, to touch him when he was this unresponsive. “I don't mean to alarm you, but you don’t have any pants on.” She leaned in close. “And you have _a guest_ ,” she finished with an exaggerated whisper.

He opened his eyes. It was morning. The lights were still off, but the narrow, high window let the sunrise slip through, warming the room with pale canary rays that caught the auburn highlights in the shaggy hair of the Alpha sitting on the other side of the room, made them fiery and gold by turns as he shifted nervously. Jensen turned to face him, his heat making him bold, encouraging him to show off, arch his back a little. The Alpha’s eyes skimmed his body, lingered over his genitals, skipped back up to his face hastily. A twitch of his lip, a show of fangs. It wasn’t alarming, really. Definitely not the first time he’d woken up to a strange Alpha in his room. Strange that they weren’t both naked, though. And why was Charlie here? She was drawing him away, herding him to the bathroom.

“Is that him?” she asked once the door was closed behind them. She shoved a pair of absorbent shorts at him and then tossed him sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Hm?” he noised, pulling the shirt over his head.

“Your _Alpha_! Don’t you remember? You don’t remember. Last night—”

“Oh. Oh, _shit_!” He leapt for the door, but Charlie blocked him.

“Wait a sec. And brush your teeth! Here.” She helped him for the next few minutes, got his face cleaned, careful of the bruises, and she talked quietly as she did. “I let him in. He was lurking around out there in the hall. Man, does he have it bad for you! Sweating buckets, pacing. Smells like a dream, though. Couldn’t you tell? It’s okay, those epi-blockers really fuck up your senses, huh?” Otherwise, he’d be hounding after every Alpha in a two block radius, and they both knew it. “Wait, wait! He’s a real gentleman, okay, but I think you should wait for Alastair, or _somebody._ I know you, Jen. He’s being good, but you put on your charms—”

Jensen made a frustrated grunt. “Charlie, let me out or I’m gonna stuff you in the trash. I just need to get closer to him. I need to know, okay? I need—if he’s—please, Charlie, c’mon!”

The little omega folded her arms and shook her head, red hair flouncing around her shoulders. “Nope. No. No way. Just wait—”

Alastair’s voice made them both jump as the doctor greeted the Alpha waiting in Jensen’s room. Jensen raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. Wow. You’re _welcome_ ,” she muttered as she stepped aside. Jensen tugged on a piece of her hair as he cracked the door and she kicked at his heel, but he opened the door wide enough for her to squirm next to him and peek out.

The Alpha, and, shit, he was _tall_ , rose to greet the doctor.

“I didn’t realise,” he was saying, a blush to his cheeks. “I thought she was an orderly when she let me in.”

An actual orderly, dressed in the same teal scrubs as Charlie, swept the bathroom door open, exposing the omegas behind it.

“Oops,” Charlie said. She grinned innocently and edged towards the door to the hallway. “I’ll just be going back to my room—”

“Charlene!” Alastair snapped. Charlie froze, but Jensen didn’t. He stepped in front of her. Alastair had his back to the other Alpha—and Jensen could _almost_ remember his name. Maybe? Something like his own. Only the two omegas could see Alastair’s face, the anger in his eyes. His nostrils flared, scenting, and Jensen hoped all he was getting was defiance. Alastair hated that she and Jensen were friends, he was sure of it. He scared her, but he never really punished her for sneaking out of her room and visiting Jensen, for breaking the codes on the doors separating them. It almost seemed a game, Jensen thought, a push and pull between the three of them Alastair allowed because he was getting something from it. Probably just more insight into their psychology or some bullshit.

But right now, Jensen wasn’t going to let Alastair humiliate his friend in front of whoever this Alpha was. A tiny tilt of his head for Charlie and Jensen waited until he felt her edge out from behind him towards the door, and then he stalked up to Alastair. A flash of colour and Charlie was gone. The orderly took a step towards Jensen, but Alastair stopped him with a gesture, just like Jensen knew he would. Closer, and the chill from the Alpha’s body put the cool water and steel to shame. Like walking into a snowstorm, and Jensen took a deep, involuntary breath.

“Jensen,” Alastair said, low-voiced and with a slight tremor that only Jensen could hear, that only Jensen knew about. Knew how to use. He stepped in closer, forcing Alastair to lower his arms or the ever-present clipboard would be pushed into his chest. “Stop.”

“Who’s your friend?” Jensen asked, his voice a purr in his throat, a distant hum in his ears. He watched his fingers, nails long and cared for, reach between them, tap a button on Alastair’s white coat. When he spoke again, it was as if his other hand was covering his own mouth, muffling the words, making them hard to hear, but a quick glance down told him that wasn’t the case. He was speaking and didn’t quite understand why he was saying what he was. “Did you bring him for me? To help me? You didn’t have to. It’s not so bad this time. You could—”

A hard pinch on his spine sent Jensen to his knees. The orderly held him there, fingers digging in painfully. Jensen managed to lift his head, glare up into Alastair’s eyes. The doctor smiled at him, a snake’s tongue of a moment, come and gone, and then he took a steadying breath through his nose and turned to the man behind him.

“I should have expected you’d be here already, but I had hoped we’d have Jensen in a presentable state before you saw him. If you’d like, we can go to my office while he gets his medication and breakfast?”

“No!” The word was said in a panic. Jensen tried with all his strength to keep upright, to keep the pressure on his neck from driving him to all fours, face down. He let out a little whimper at the effort and the Alpha took a step towards him, hesitated, lurched as he stopped when he so obviously wanted to come to Jensen’s rescue. “I-I mean, I should know, right? What to do, how to—how to—his medication—”

“Of course,” Alastair said as if it was the best idea he’d heard all morning.

Through his own tears, unbidden and irritating, a symptom of his forced submission, Jensen could see the truth in the lines around the doctor’s eyes. It was a nebulous thing, something Jensen only understood by instinct, a fact he could never pin down with rational thought nor had real evidence of. Alastair coveted him. Wanted him. Felt some sort of ownership over him that Jensen had to accept because he could not get away from it, had learned to live with like a part of his own body.

“Can—can he—can you let him go?” The Alpha sounded near tears himself. Jensen wanted to look up at him, could not, finally lost the battle and dropped to his hands. There was a scuffling noise and then the brutal squeeze on his spine disappeared. Was replaced by a soft palm, a soothing stroke over the same spot. Long fingers brushed through his hair, over the ridge of his skull, the bruise there. Jensen closed his eyes. Tears were cut, fell onto the backs of his hands. The Alpha put fingers to his cheek, gentle pressure to coax Jensen into turning his head until their eyes met. Those eyes. Blue-green-gold, wide and fixed on him like he was afraid Jensen would disappear if he blinked. Jensen remembered them. And he never remembered _anything._ He gasped.

It was like drinking in the night sky, full of stars. He was suddenly floating, falling. There was no floor, no walls. No cruel doctors or bullying orderlies, no pills, needles, straps. A giddy rush of energy through his body from groin to that sensitive spot under the Alpha’s palm, a noise from his own mouth. Laughter, a sob. He was falling still and wanted the Alpha to catch him. _Needed_ him to. Reached out and clutched at him, gripped the Alpha’s linen shirt, dragged himself across the slippery waxed floor on his knees until he had his face buried against the Alpha’s chest.

“Hey, hey. Jen, I’m here. I have you, baby.”

The Alpha’s breath and the scent of his skin and his touch, his sheer existence, was everything free and clean and safe, was everything Jensen’s life had never been until now.


	5. Chapter 5

Jared could have stayed crouched on the floor for eternity with the omega clinging to him, but he felt eyes on them. The orderly looked bored, over-caffeinated and a little disgusted at the emotional display at his feet. Alastair was as collected as ever, watching patiently, but Jared had not slept in the night. He’d repeatedly gone over everything that had happened since he’d first caught his omega’s scent. Once he’d exhausted himself memorising and analysing every detail of his time with Jensen, the doctor and everything he’d said and done had occupied Jared for hours. And between the psychology classes he’d taken throughout high school and college and his own newly-roused Alpha’s instincts, Jared had come to a mildly disturbing conclusion about Alistair that he could see proof of clearly in the morning light.

Alastair was staring down at Jensen, jaw tight, fingers white where they were gripping the clipboard, eyes half-blinking closed, a rapid succession of movement Jared knew to be an indicator of stress. The doctor was in love with Jensen, Jared had decided, taking into account the aggressive stares from that evening, the dominant gestures, and he had hastily gone for a pre-dawn run to get away from why and how long and what might be of the situation. It didn’t matter now. What mattered was this beautiful omega and how to take care of him.

He was crying still, babbling something that Jared couldn’t piece together but the staff had apparently heard before. The orderly sighed and pushed a button on the wall outside of Jensen’s room next to the door, calling the nurse, and Alastair finally moved, following Jared to Jensen’s bed as he drew the omega up off the floor.

“Breaking his routine might be very stressful to him at first,” Alastair said, eyes on his clipboard instead of Jared rearranging Jensen in his arms, “so you’ll want to quickly establish one of your own. We medicate him in the morning because his outbursts can disrupt the other patients, and keeping him sedated throughout the day is safer for everyone.”

“Safer for _you_ ,” Jensen said, voice clear of tears suddenly. He pushed off Jared’s chest and ran his hand around the back of his neck, flicking his fingers. He thrust his chin out and narrowed his eyes at Alastair. “Now you just leave off that sedative, you hear me? Let the boys have their moment. I can keep Jenny’s hands to himself. You do that, and I’ll—”

“You know I don’t bargain,” Alastair said. “And you know, Ellen, it’s not you or Jensen I have concerns about.”

“Ellen?” Jared repeated.

“Nice to meet you, son,” Jensen said without looking at him, his eyes full of crushed sapphires locked on Alastair, some kind of battle going on between the two of them Jared didn’t understand. He cautiously shook the proffered hand. Jensen dropped it carelessly and leaned back against the wall, hands folded over his flat stomach. “Oh, trust me, Doc, I got an idea what you’re worried about. I see the shit those kids scratch into the walls. But the sun’s out. They’re all in the garden, and Jensen needs this. When have I ever lied to you?”

Alastair seemed to mull this over. Jared looked between the two, baffled. There was a knock at the door during the silence and the nurse stepped into the room. Even she seemed to understand what was happening better than Jared as she came to a halt, put her hands in her pockets and waited without question for Alastair’s direction.

“Look, Doc, you know what happens next, anyway. But this is better. And we’re scaring the boy here,” Jensen said, his voice a clipped midwestern drawl. “I’ll clean house. Jensen’ll be fine for a while, they’ll have a good moment. They could use one, by the look o’ him.” He winked at Jared.

“What—” Jared started. Alastair held his hand up.

“Alright, Ellen. You make them behave today and we’ll see how long it lasts this time. Jensen has nothing to worry about. He’s got a whole new life waiting for him, and I want him to start it clear-headed and comfortable.”

“Thanks,” Jensen said. Scoffed, but Jared wasn’t sure of it. Jensen was looking at him, druzy eyes flickering back to gold now, and there was a sad tilt to the thin smile on his lips. “Jared, right?”

“Uh,” he faltered, looked to Alastair. The doctor nodded once in encouragement. “Yeah, um—”

“Don’t be shy, son,” Jensen said and put out his hand again. Jared took it and the omega drew him in close, put his arms around Jared’s shoulders, his face hidden from Alastair. Against Jared’s ear, he whispered, “You get him out of here, understand? Whatever it takes.”

Jared didn’t have a chance to reply. Jensen suddenly sagged in his arms, his teeth clacking together loudly in Jared’s ear as his chin hit Jared’s shoulder. Jared caught the omega before he could fall sideways against the wall, lowered him back across the bed. Unconscious.

“Don’t be alarmed, Mr. Wesson,” Alastair said, clipboard up and making notes on it. “He’ll be out for at least half an hour, but we may be in luck and not have to sedate him, so you will get a clearer picture of his original personality.”

Jared sat, gazing at the omega. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t believe what he’d just witnessed. “Original personality?” he echoed.

He heard Alastair say something, but it wasn’t to him so he didn’t care. The orderly left the room. Jared knew he was still in the hallway. Just in case. Alastair relieved the nurse of Jensen's medications and directed the staff member who arrived a few seconds later to put Jensen’s breakfast on the small table under the window. Alastair took a seat there and wrote a few more notes, and then sat, watching, until Jared couldn’t take being stared at anymore.

“You looked at the papers I sent you home with last night?” Alastair asked when Jared finally joined him at the table. Jared nodded. He’d read them over until words like _amnesia_ , _psychosis_ , _suicide_ , had lost meaning, becoming tools that had hollowed out his stomach, made his head ache, his eyes burn. Then he’d followed the suggestions on another page: cleaned his apartment like it hadn’t been since he’d moved into it. The piles of brown hair behind the toilet disappeared finally, the bathtub was scrubbed. He swept and vacuumed, glad it was Friday night and the Betas in the apartment under his were probably out drinking at the college bar down the block. Put clothes in the closet and washed dishes, and then he’d gathered up the dull steak knives his stepmom had sent to him and put them in a shoe box. His dad’s silver letter opener, far sharper than the knives, went into the box, along with a crystal nail file, the scissors he’d butchered his hair with and the pair he’d had since he was thirteen he used for everything else. The handful of lighters he fished out of the couch went into the box, too, because of the word _pyrophobia_ among the list of things Jensen suffered from. The box was stuffed under the bed and then Jared had spent a few minutes ordering a mid-sized safe with fingerprint security and three live-locking bolts from the internet, two-day shipping guaranteed.

“Good, good,” Alastair said. A flipping of papers on Alastair’s clipboard and Jared looked away from the doctor’s soft hands, his pale fingers. Looked back at the omega. The bruises were yellowing, would be gone in a day. Jared never wanted to see another on Jensen’s face.

“Did the state fax you?” Jared heard himself ask, interrupting something, _whatever_ , Alastair was saying. A medication schedule. He’d put it on his fridge, set alarms on his watch.

“—are experimental, so—oh, yes. Yes, just a processing letter saying they would expedite Jensen’s release. The forms should be here anytime. We can both sign them and I’ll have them faxed back, and as long as it’s done before noon, it will be in the system and Jensen will be legally free to go. I apologise for this being so clinical, but, well.”

The time couldn’t go fast enough. Jared felt smothered, a pressure-pain in his ears that accentuated his headache. The omega never moved. All that was missing was water all around him, Jared’s nails breaking against stone as he tried to free them both, trying to break through the ceiling, the surface. They’d both come up gasping this time, alive and—

“—suicide rates are very high in the first two weeks, even into the first year after discharge. Jared, I understand this is disturbing, but the better you prepare yourself the easier time you’ll have understanding what is happening with the omega.”

“Suicide,” Jared echoed. He smoothed his expression through sheer willpower, hoping memory wasn’t evident in his scent, in his wet eyes. He nodded. “Of course. I understand. I-I saw, in the papers last night. The statistics. I can call—”

“Anytime. Good. Don’t be worried about asking for help. I am confident that between the staff, myself, and now you, Jensen will remain well cared for and looked after. Now, about the multiples.”

“Multiples?”

“The other personalities. He’s manifested eleven over the past eighteen years, but most have dissolved. The four that remain have resisted all attempts at integration. Most are amnesiac of at least one of the other multiples, and Jensen won’t remember three of the four, though he does have internal conversations two of them.”

Jared gaped at the doctor. Alastair pretended not to notice, kept talking as he made a new pile of papers for Jared to take away with him while he named names and traits and triggers. First Ellen, whom Jared had just met, a motherly type who took over for Jensen when he was afraid. An internal self-helper, she did her best to regulate the other personalities, especially the children.

Jared put a hand over his mouth to keep from stuttering the word back.

“Rhonda is unique in that she’s grown up with Jensen, though on a stunted timeline. She’s a teenager now, but she came into being when they were both ten. You encountered her last night when Jensen felt cornered, threatened—”

“I-I didn’t mean—”

“Rhonda is very protective of the other child,” Alastair went on as if Jared hadn’t spoken. “Joey’s young, of indeterminate sex, extremely trusting of adults. Joey and Ellen are the most obviously manipulative of the group. They will try to bargain, as you saw with Ellen; to make promises. My advice to you, Jared, is to ignore them. Don’t try to reason with them, don’t allow them to get what they want. Rhonda can be insulting and Joey may throw tantrums, but you cannot let them control you. No matter what, you are the Alpha.”

Jared nodded. That part was easy; conditioned all his life to be in control of personal relationships.

“Rhonda is the troublesome multiple, the one I am most worried about being outside of this facility. She’s violent and aggressive, and it will be shocking for you to experience such derision and temper from your omega. She may try to harm you, as I warned last night.”

“H-how. What do, uh, what do I do?”

Alastair looked up from his papers. “Don’t let her. Whatever it takes.” And then he smiled warmly. Chuckled as if Jared’s horror was some kind of punchline. “Unnerving, I’m sure. Again, the Institution is right here to help. If you need to talk to someone or bring him back—”

The very thought worked like a magnet to pull Jared back together. “No. I mean, I won’t. Need to, to do that. I’m sure I’ll need advice sometimes, but, but he won’t need to be brought back here. Not, not permanently.” That was a goal he could work towards. Whatever happened, he wasn’t going to be separated from his omega because he was afraid.

Alastair was scanning his papers again, but Jared had a question.

“Why does he, um…disassociate?”

The doctor nodded to himself, just once, without lifting his eyes to Jared. Secured his documents, folded his hands over them, began speaking. “It’s a response to trauma. Physical, emotional, sexual. In Jensen’s case, he witnessed his mother die in a fire when he was four, and he himself was injured in the accident. The soles of his feet were badly burned and he broke some bones falling through the floor. It can be a reaction to molestation. He was neglected and abused, probably sexually, by a relative before he was abandoned.

He later was the only one home when his caregiver died suddenly of an aneurysm. He was in foster care for a very short time and was sexually assaulted by older children, and then he was given over to the state. I was a medical technician in the facility he was first placed in and I know he was assaulted, raped, and beaten up and bullied by patients, and possibly some staff. All of that before he was nine years old. Having no coping skills and no stability, unable to trust his peers or adults to be there for him, he created all of what he needed. In his mind. He has a house that’s made of stone so it cannot be burned, a garden to play in, a mother-figure to confide in. He had a father multiple at one point, but he integrated that figure. He has others to deal with the memories and feelings he doesn’t know how to process.”

There was more. And more. Folders of information Jared could look through. Bullet points next to words like _amnesia, fugue, derealisation._ But it was the words Alastair had spoken aloud that made Jared’s mind spin out once again: _raped, beaten, abused._

Jared nodded when it seemed expected, glanced at the information as it was handed over, signed documents when Alastair rolled a pen across the table to him. He fumbled through the demonstration of how to administer shots with compression pens and accepted the bag clattering with bottled pills, stacked the folders of medical explanations, and it was all over suddenly, the barrage on his heart and head. He still had so many questions and Alastair recommended that he start keeping a journal of some kind.

“For questions to ask during check-ups, to keep track of triggers. To get to know his multiples. That’s not to say that you should engage them, Jared.” Alastair leaned back from the table finally, and for the first time, the hint of amusement lurking just beneath the surface of the doctor’s academic demeanor sank out of sight completely. Deadly serious, he said. “Do not humour them. Do not antagonise them. If at all possible, ignore them and their demands completely. Only deal with the omega, whenever possible. The less validation they receive, the better.”

“Okay,” Jared said, barely. He shoved his tongue tip against his canine until he had enough saliva to swallow properly.

“They all have a tendency to lie, or in the youngest’s case, exaggerate wildly. That’s not to say some of their experiences aren’t going to be real, that their reactions aren’t justified, but Jensen needs to learn how to deal with reality without them someday, and acknowledging the multiples is only giving them more life—Jensen’s life—than they should have.”

It was some kind of relief, really. The doctor was giving Jared permission to ignore obvious symptoms of Jensen’s disease. Clear-cut lines he could back away from. This was something Jared at least had some background in…

“One last detail, which obviously you are aware of. We occasionally have to suppress Jensen’s heats because they are irregular and exhausting when they come back-to-back too many times in a row. I was considering it again, actually. This is his third in six months, but, well, you’re here for him now.”

Jared blushed. Stupid, juvenile, but he couldn’t help it. “Uh, yeah. I mean, no. No, that won’t—we’ll be fine.”

That bottom-dwelling smile again, surfacing slick and black. “Of course.” And again, the familiarity there, the straightforward _leer_ that loosened the doctor’s face for a moment too long, Jared knew it should make him defensive, territorial. But he couldn’t do it. It would require him to think in detail about the implications, and he was utterly fucking exhausted. And he was distracted further from it by the arrival of another nurse and Alastair excusing himself.

“There’s someone in the hall if you need anything, Mr. Wesson. I’ll be back as soon as the rest of the release forms come through.” A handshake between the Alphas and Jared wondered if the doctor noticed him trembling.

Like coughing up the last remnants of a chest cold, Alastair leaving the room was a physical weight lifted from Jared. Winter withdrawing and the sweet promise of Spring whispering all around him, drawing him away from the papers and pills. Stepping lightly, carefully, as if he could bruise the very air he was sharing with the unconscious omega, Jared returned to his mate’s side. Down on his knees, face so close to the place where Jensen slept, sweated, Alastair’s words of warning and intimations retreated, dissolved like ice in the sun.

The heat-scent smothered and weak, running like an infection through the omega’s bloodstream, but it spiked as Jared leaned in, seared his sinuses, but it sweetened the closer he came as if he were a filter for the pain it was causing Jensen. Proof, the omega hummed in his sleep, shifted, bent his head, lifted his chin. Rolled his shoulders and exposed the place Jared would sink his claim into when the time was right. He wanted to now; his body burned at the thought, his mouth salivated in excess he would have appreciated earlier, but then his tongue went numb, his gums, with the chemical that would mix with Jensen’s blood and bond to the receptors in the omega’s brain. Keep the initial bite from hurting and keep the puncture wound clean and he wanted to do it right now, wanted to allay the fear he wouldn’t be able to create that bond, wouldn’t ever make the omega his. Only his, for as long as he lived.

He wasn’t going to, he really wasn’t. But it would be like this. So close. Over the omega, the heat radiating on his own skin, scent rich and smooth with the drumming of Jensen’s heart, and Jared put his hands on the mattress, leaned closer. The motion made Jensen tip towards him. Woke him up. The cry he made startled Jared so badly he fell back, landed on his ass. Jensen went the opposite way, lurched up and threw himself against the wall, wrapped his arms around his head. Stomping feet in the hallway and a skid through the door, but Jared didn’t even look at the orderly, just waved a hand at them. He would do more if they kept coming, if they went anywhere near Jensen, but thankfully they halted just inside the room.

Jared scrambled up into a crouch, shuffled closer to the bed. Jensen was hidden in his arms, knees to his chest, his body so tightly balled up he was vibrating.

“Jensen? Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Sir,” the orderly started, “I can—”

“Just—we’re fine,” Jared snapped. He was never this rude to people who were just doing their job usually, but something about the banality with which people here treated Jensen was driving him to it. A sigh and a scrape backwards, but the orderly didn’t leave. That was good enough.

“Jensen,” Jared tried again. “Jen, are you okay? Will you answer me, please?”

“Probably not gonna happen,” came a hesitant voice from the doorway.

“For fu—Charlie,” the orderly grumbled, “go back to your room and _stay there_ or I’m going to strap you down.”

The girl’s mouth opened to protest then snapped shut. She sneered instead, wrinkling her nose. She flicked a softer look at Jared and then turned to leave.

“W-wait! Wait, please,” Jared called. The red-headed omega had been in Jensen’s room when Jared had conned his way past the front desk this morning and Jensen hadn’t seem disturbed by her nearness, and he gathered by the way Jensen had defended her from Alastair that the two omegas were friends. He stood, careful not to move too swiftly, and put a hand out to her. “Charlie? I’m Jared Wesson. I, uh, Jensen, he’s, um… Can… What do I do? Can you help me?”

Half her face hidden by the doorframe, Charlie rolled one eye towards the orderly, animosity evident in the silver twinkle of her iris.

“It’s fine, really,” Jared said to the man. “You can just step outside.” He hoped he wasn’t making a bad decision.

The orderly muttered what Jared was sure was ‘whatever’ under his breath and glared at Charlie as he disappeared into the hall. Both eyes visible again, Charlie squinted at Jared.

“Jenny’s Alpha, huh? Okay. Awfully somber, aren’t you? You dig graves for a living or something?”

“What, no. I work in a law office.”

That sneer again. “I know some laws that need work.” She sighed and stepped into the room. Another glance up at Jared as she went by, and despite her attitude and her timid side-step around him, he knew she liked him. The scent that had given her away as an omega rather than a Beta orderly this morning was soft in Jared’s throat, a high, sweet fragrance that brought to mind handmade candy a neighbour woman had doled out to the ‘service brats’ when his father had moved them to Virginia for a year. There was a heaviness to her too, a rooted spiciness that tingled, surprised Jared, and it was that scent that unfolded around her, fell like a calming rain in the room as she crawled without hesitation onto Jensen’s bed and put her arms around him. Whispering, she pushed her face against Jensen’s cheek, nosed at his wrist where it was pressed tight to his ear. The first response from his omega was a sharp shake of his head. Then a whimper, bitten lips, a low groan, but his eyes opened. He started rocking and Charlie was forced back, but one of his hands was in her possession, pulled down into her lap, and then Jared could hear her.

“You gotta write me, okay? Every day, even if it’s just one thing you did. I ain’t even mad! I’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen in here, huh? I’ll call you, and you’ll come visit me. Ooh, you can smuggle me in some comic books!” she sang. “I’ll make you a list. Will you do that for me?”

A nod. Jensen was swaying forwards and back slowly, blinking like he was struggling to stay awake. He hadn’t looked up at Jared and that hurt. Jared shifted, struggling not to put himself in Jensen’s line of sight, to not demand his attention. Charlie shot him a reproachful look.

“Hey, Jen?” she said, her glare holding Jared in place.

“Mm.”

“Do you wanna go back to sleep? You can. I’ll stay here, I promise. Between me and your Alpha, nothing’s gonna happen to you. _Or_ , you want me to get your food? They gave us one of those breakfast cookies you like.”

A shake of the head and Jensen squeezed his eyes closed as if he were in pain.

“Sorry, too many questions, huh? One at a time. Gonna sleep?”

Another shake.

“Cookie?”

The omega’s hands suddenly shot out, the one Charlie had been holding jerked from her grasp. Fingers wide and splayed, and his body arched backwards, his head fell back against the wall with a thump that made Jared wince. Mouth open, Jensen drew in a harsh, long breath. And then again, shorter. Another, almost a gasp and Charlie put her hand on his chest and pushed. Not a shove, just solid pressure over his heart. A minute went by. Maybe just half, but it felt eerily like forever to Jared. He wasn’t sure what changed after that, but Charlie took Jensen’s wrist in her hand again and Jared could tell her hand was flexing, baring down firmly around the bones of his wrist, and like a magic trick, Jensen suddenly straightened himself out and relaxed. Straining hands fell into his lap, his eyes almost closed and his face tipped down and he wiggled just a little, comfortably, under Charlie’s hand. He made a noise.

“Knew you wanted the cookie. Maybe your mister here will get it for you, huh?”

“Oh. Right. Here, here, Jensen.” Jared fumbled with the wrap on the cookie and offered the soft, grain-filled treat to the omega. Jensen didn’t take it, only put his hand out, palm up, for Jared to place the food on. But he met Jared’s eyes, and Jared’s knees wanted to buckle, shook as if he’d been running for miles and miles.

“See, with a little prompting, he’ll be a good provider. Stalk the aisles of grocery stores in search of the best breakfast foods available.”

Jensen rolled his eyes weakly at Charlie’s commentary and Jared held his breath until they settled back on him. The omega was unreadable like this. Whatever had just happened, some kind of fit, Jared could only surmise, it had left Jensen with no real expression as if the muscles of his face were numb and slack. His scent, now that Jared was some distance from him again, was almost undetectable under the strong, healthy pheromones Charlie was giving off. None of it made a difference to that place in Jared’s heart and in his brain which had decided against reason, had rejected fear and only loved this odd, beautiful being in front of him.

“Incoming,” Charlie whispered loudly and Jensen smiled around his fingers where he’d pushed cookie into his mouth.

“Can I—Jensen? Can I sit here? I won’t—I-I—it’s okay,” Jared said, the promise lame on his tongue. It wasn’t okay; more than that, he couldn’t make it okay for the omega. He had no idea at all what was okay and what wasn’t. What was going to set Jensen off. How what Charlie had done had comforted him. He was so lost and overwhelmed and all he wanted to do was be near his mate, but that might send Jensen off somewhere Jared had no directions to. But now, in this moment at least, it was okay. Jensen nodded, tired eyes still tracking Jared until he had to turn his head to look at him when Jared sat next to him, one leg folded, ankle tucked behind his other knee. He wanted to be closer. He wanted to haul Jensen into his lap and hold on for dear life. He knew that would be the wrong thing to do.

So he waited.


	6. Chapter 6

The Alpha was so nervous it was almost amusing. Sad, though, mostly. They were both sad; this young Alpha male and the disheveled omega girl. There wasn’t much reason to be. Jensen would be fine. He would finally get out of this wretched place and life would be interesting instead of just one long dreary slide towards death. Jensen would still probably not have many friends outside, but there were so many things he had never experienced that would keep him occupied and entertained, not having friends would be alright. He would have this Alpha, at least, and he wasn’t just a door prize. Very nice looking. Attentive, though unsure. And this sadness would get old, wouldn’t it? It wasn’t just because of Jensen. Not _only_ because of him. It was all over the Alpha like a fine sheen of oil, glossing his lips when he smiled, wetting his eyes. A smouldering fire in the back of his mind, on the undercurrent of his scent. That would drive Jensen even more mad, eventually. He was rubbish at knowing what was and wasn’t his fault. It was a good thing he had help.

He stopped eating, gave the little bird of a girl the rest of his breakfast, and then he leaned into the Alpha.

“Jared,” Jensen said, as if making a statement. And he stayed still when this Jared put a cautious arm around Jensen’s shoulders. That was good; Jensen was being brave. There was no reason he shouldn’t be, no reason he should fight this.

Jared’s hand was grasped, lifted, placed over Jensen’s ear. His other ear was against the Alpha’s shoulder, and there was a murmur from the girl, muffled as Jared was encouraged to press. Lightly at first, then with more force. Held there, and Jensen slowly relaxed. He was frightened, of course. Something was happening to him he was barely a party to. He should be used to decisions being made about him, his life being organised by others, but it was hard. Everyone understood it was hard on him, but he rarely gave anyone else much choice.

Almost deaf, vision blurred because he wanted it that way, he was only minorly aware of the conversation between his Alpha and Charlie. It was subdued, but the attention being paid to him was soothing. He wasn’t convinced it was going to last, but for the time being, it was nice to be held, to be cared about and worried over rather than being a burden. Worse, being nothing at all.

The rumble of the Alpha’s voice kept Jensen distracted. Wriggling closer, the conversation paused. The girl tittered and moved to the table, allowing the Alpha to put his back to the corner and stretch his legs out. Curled against his chest, one leg in Jared’s lap, hearing still blocked, it was paradise. The heat was fading; another mysteriously short-lived torment that had claws even now, razoring along veins, making hands and mouth restless, seeking. And for the first time ever, they had a destination, an end-point rather than a pitstop. A broad chest under a soft linen shirt, a collarbone sharp and scented.

“Hey, hey, Jen, c’mon,” Jared said, his actions to stop Jensen half-hearted.

“Alpha.” A murmured word, an acquiescence nonetheless. Hands splayed over ribs instead, and Jensen was counting breaths.

At some point, later, whenever—it really didn’t matter because here was only ever going to be important now, right here against this Alpha and his wild, dark scent all around—the doctor came back. Snapped papers on the desk, chased the little bird away. Forced foul liquid and pills down Jensen’s throat. At least it was only medicine. He had definitely fed the omega worse in the past, but Jensen wasn’t sure of that. He never wanted to think about it.

His Alpha’s scent fizzed and popped, anger and humiliation and fear at the dosing, at the physical checking of mouth to make sure Jensen swallowed, but with the return of Jensen to his arms he calmed, steadied himself. Freed one hand to sign on lines and initial agreements. Wrote away his life and leased Jensen’s.

There wasn’t much to take from that place and, with Jensen drugged and fading in the background, his things were collected into a small box. A few pictures, cinder-holed and water-wavy, and a handful of women’s jewelry. A dozen books about adventures and adventurers, some cooking magazines. Half as many articles of clothing, some of which he was fitted into. His tattered hoodie and almost-new sneakers. The Alpha’s eyes were always on him. He held Jensen’s hand as much as he could, turned to him, peered into his dull eyes to see if he was understanding what was happening. He did. Somewhat. He didn’t have to. Others would take care of it.

They put Jensen in a wheelchair. Procedure, they said, but it was a precaution. He was less likely to throw himself on the floor in protest of change, to hurt himself fainting. He wasn’t going to do either, but they didn’t know that. Maybe Jared did. He watched Jensen’s face and won a secret, lively smile as a reward.

Alastair walked them to the door, had made a rare display when he’d squeezed Jensen’s shoulder as he said goodbye, be good, see you soon. Touched the back of Jensen’s head, a brief caress. Flashed fangs one last time at Jared as they shook hands, and then he was gone. Too bad it wasn’t forever.

The late Winter sun dazzled everyone, had Jensen blinking up at his Alpha with watering eyes as they rolled towards his car. Jared waved off the orderly’s offer of help getting Jensen settled inside, so he just held the box of belongings until Jared claimed that as well.

A quiet bump as the driver’s side door closed, and then they were together, alone. At last. For the first time.

“I like your car. Clean. Smells good. Like you… You like it in here.” Jensen’s voice was small and hard to make work. To fortify the connection, Jared’s right hand was plucked up and held tight.

Jared stared. His eyes were grey and green and sprung wide open. He nodded, smiled. Not quite shy. Self-deprecatingly. “I do. Thanks. Um, are you okay? Is… _this_ okay?”

“Yeah.”

An awkward reach under the steering column to push the ignition, but Jared left his hand in Jensen’s. “Do you need anything? We can stop—”

“No. Just away.”

They went. Slowly. Jensen’s body was heavy and loose, swayed around corners and drifted forward at stops. Jared hadn’t wanted Jensen sedated, but when Alastair had returned, informed at the door about Jensen’s fit, he’d insisted. A lowered dose, but it still had him muzzy and open-mouthed.

Jensen wanted to look around, see where they were going, where his Alpha was taking him. Not that it mattered; Jensen would go anywhere with him. He also just wanted to look at Jared, to study his face—thin pink lips, strong jaw, a wide brow that frowned often over clever eyes which spun through colours as much as Jensen’s own did, blue-green-grey-gold, the world seen from space turning in them. Eyelids tilted, feathered with short, straight lashes the same colour as his dark brown hair, sun-streaked gold to match his eyes and compliment skin dotted with little moles: neck, cheek, nestled by his upturned nose and Jensen was having a hard time breathing. Not in any danger, he merely couldn’t do more than one thing at a time and his brain was racing and Jared was glancing at him in alarm as he drove and Jensen gasped, short and strong inhalations and I had no choice but to take over.

I covered his mouth with one hand, bringing the calming scent of the Alpha to us. I was the one that kept his fingernails long, and I distracted him by looking at the sharp edge of his thumbnail, so close to his eye that the image was fuzzy. He occasionally gouged at his eyes with his nails but that coarse older woman Ellen, or I, usually kept him from doing any real damage. No, the nails were for defending himself from others, as much as they were simply something elegant in a place that had no beauty of its own.

With Jensen’s mouth blocked, he was forced to breathe through his nose. That pacified him and allowed me to fit better inside our body. The anxiety made everything crooked, too tight, like a child’s glove being forced over my hand, and regulating his breathing helped us to relax into each other. Eyes closed now, I leaned back and tucked the fingers of my free hand under the Alpha’s leg to reassure him he didn’t need to stop, or worse, take us back to the Institution.

That was the thought which brought Jensen into submission finally. I felt him step back, give the body over to me completely. He didn’t _want_ to, and I didn’t blame him for his hesitation and reluctance. We were finally in the presence of someone who truly cared for our wellbeing, and Jensen craved that, needed it desperately. But he was overwhelmed. The drugs, his heat, his Alpha’s sudden appearance in his life…the poor boy couldn’t deal with it all at once.

And where were the others? The terrors (as I preferred to call them) were too weak right now to come out, probably play-fighting in the garden. I never really saw them. Just glimpses—blonde, both of them, could be siblings for all I knew. A teenage girl and a child of indeterminate age and sex; they were always disappearing around the corner, giggling behind closed doors, or crying. Causing some sort of upset that had me shut safely in my own room until the noise died down.

Ellen often cared for them. Scolded them in her brusque, motherly way. And often as not earned lip and lies for her effort. She did not seem to realise she was being lied to, and I certainly did not care enough to tell her I thought she was wasting her time. The terrors were going to do as they pleased, and they protected our Jensen, so I stayed out of their way and let Ellen fight her losing battle. She and I were civil enough, though I felt her reproving stare from time to time.

I would like to see her try to do the things I do for us!

I laughed at the thought, and the Alpha next to us startled at the sound. He was very attractive. His hands especially. Dexterous fingers, strong and slender. Hands matched his thighs, and his wide shoulders made the slim vee of his waist all the more interesting. His scent was lovely. Sharp, savage, something that whipped at the senses and made you breathe deep of it, like the breath taken at the hard won summit of a mountain. Jensen fairly hummed with pleasure over it, and even I could appreciate the strength there, the inherent feeling of _home_ and _protection_ it offered.

Jensen’s body was calm now, under my control, and I took the hand over my mouth away and offered Jared a sweet smile, something reassuring so he could concentrate on getting us far away from the drowning-hold of the clinic. What a delightful surprise it was that this was happening! I was glad it was I at the forefront now, glad that Jensen would still be able to experience this inexplicable shift in our lives. With the others, he would have little or no memory of any events taking place, but he and I shared a tenuous connection that allowed him to see what I was seeing, even if he had no ability to direct our reactions and decisions.

Jared smiled back at me, his mouth held tight and small for now but I could tell it was versatile. A thinnish upper lip in a lovely bow that trembled just above the pout-bubble of the bottom, it was a mouth made to be kissed, most certainly. Naturally neat teeth hid behind them, the long, sharp canine marking his sex visible for a moment when he licked those lips. We had scars from such canines already, some so old they were sure to be overlooked.

I flipped the mirror down on the visor. Par for the course, the boy was a wreck. Bruises of his own doing decorated his temples, matched the dull gold shine of his eyes, the rich brown iris unusually pale. Heat-stress greyed his eyelids, made hollows of his cheekbones. Freckles hung on tenaciously even without direct exposure to the sun, dusted nose, cheekbones and ears. Everywhere else, too. Hands, chest, back. Even his ridiculous bowed out thighs.

I didn’t remember his mother, but Jensen’s recollections were of a good-natured woman who had smiles and love to give him and little else. Inadequate food, very little time, thrift-store clothes. She was always away, presumably working, and Jensen was left too often with a woman who looked after a passel of children in a run-down trailer with dirty windows and no yard to speak of. His entire life but for a few brief respites had been spent indoors, and neither his sanity nor his body thrived in such conditions.

“Maybe,” I said, the sound coming out a pitiful croak, and Jared glanced away from traffic, looked at us for as long as he could before he had to turn back to the road. It took several tries to get our voice to cooperate. “Ah. Maybe we could stop after all. I don’t have many clothes. Nothing to sleep in.”

Jared nodded, snatched a look again, and I turned Jensen’s mouth up in a smile. The Alpha wanted us naked of course; even I could sense that. But men like to unwrap packages as much as any child on its birthday, so of course he didn’t protest. Nodded eagerly. Probably excited to show us off. That was natural. We weren’t much to flaunt right now, but if I could keep him upright, Jensen was certainly attractive enough, even bruised. I could charm anyone else with coy looks and proper submission.

“We’ve been here before,” I mused, just to practice with Jensen’s vocal range. There hadn’t been many people worth talking to in the clinic.

“We? Oh, you and, and…Charlie?” Jared guessed, parking in the lot of a large grocery and department store.

Charlie had been especially not worth talking to. She hadn’t liked me but grudgingly accepted me when she saw how I kept Jensen from fighting with Alphas. From being hurt by them.

I nodded, lowered our eyes after the Alpha stared for just the right amount of time. He jumped a little and then darted out of the car. Came to our side and opened the door for us. He certainly was trying to be a gentleman. I let him help us up and Jensen wavered.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I need a second. Please?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Of course,” Jared rushed, then his chest puffed up when we took his arm and leaned against his side. “Charlie’s mother brought us here last year,” I offered, enjoying the way I could make this Alpha’s scent spike with just a few easy words. He truly was in love. “Charlie begged for, for me to come with her. ’s where we got the shoes.” It was difficult to control Jensen’s voice because of the drugs. I hated slurring words and misstating pronouns, but Jared didn’t seem to notice.

I kept talking, started moving. Let Jared take as much of our weight as he could. Eventually, he shifted his arm from ours and around Jensen’s waist and we entered the store within the protective circle of the Alpha’s embrace.

It was close to overwhelming. So many people bustling around and all the sounds and scents that came with them. Jensen would have been on his knees without my help, anxious and afraid and unable to tell what was a threat and what wasn’t. There _were_ threats, and it showed Jared’s inexperience that we were here in the first place. Jensen was still in heat—the dregs, but that didn’t matter to most Alphas. They wouldn’t care, would only pick up Jensen’s desperate, unmated pheromones and track them to us. I thought of warning Jared, but not even a Beta second-guessed their Alpha in domestic matters, and Jensen’s heat made our body doubly reluctant to do anything but go with Jared, wherever he wanted to take us.

He lead us to the clothing section, nodded encouragingly when I reached out and began touching fabrics and spinning racks. He let us go when I needed both hands to examine things, stood watching over us, incredibly pleased with himself, if a little bit dazed. It was a good look on him.

There was a small omega-specific selection: underthings with absorbent linings, garments made of special material that slick didn’t stick to, that was easy to wipe clean without leaving stains. Most of the outfits were boring, I thought. Conventional, drab. Cut to reveal nothing, give no more skin away than necessary, as if Jensen was something to hide, to keep a secret, to be ashamed of.

I gravitated away from plain and functional and towards what would compliment Jensen’s frame and still be comfortable. I knew this boy intimately and having nice things was something he thought about once in awhile. When he wasn’t trying to kill himself and all of us, or a sloppy drugged mess. Anyway, we’d had enough of shapeless and constricting. I spotted a rack of button-down shirts and made my way to it. The sedative we’d been given was slowly fading and I could move better, use Jensen’s natural grace and stealth to slip through the maze of clothes without scuffing my feet. I glanced back at Jared. He’d followed us a few steps but had stopped, distracted by something.

I circled the rack, plucked at the sleeves of pinstripes in pale pink or crimson, compared plaid patterns in green and soft greyish-purple.

“Definitely the green,” came a voice. Male; confident and from low in the throat. Very close behind us. I looked over our shoulder.

The Alpha had come from nowhere, as far as I could tell. That was unnerving. His nearness was, too. So close I could feel the heat of his body, could taste his scent like a hot coal on my tongue. Jensen’s blood sang, a little off-key and sluggish, but the Alpha aroused him and there was little I could do about that. I took my eyes off this male as much as I dared and looked for Jared again. He’d merely turned around to examine a display of shoes, but I’d moved far away from him. I wasn’t even sure he knew exactly where we were. I thought about calling for him, but the Alpha moved in closer, his caustic scent drying my throat, stealing my air.

“Look at you,” the Alpha drawled. “Someone hasn’t been nice to you.” He reached a hand out to touch Jensen’s face. We flinched back, but there was nowhere to go, positioned up against the clothes like we were. “There there, pet, it’s okay,” he chuckled, cut off our escape even more as we turned to face him. It felt better than having our back to him. “I’m Tom. What’s your name, darlin’?”

“Jensen,” I replied. It was too confusing for the omega otherwise.

“Tom,” he repeated and tapped his chest. “Jensen.” He touched fingers to our left collarbone. Lingered there for a moment, brushed an invisible wrinkle flat before taking his touch away. “There, now we’re friends,” he said.

“I’m not alone, sir,” I informed him, politely and with eyes lowered. He was shorter than us, very attractive. Arched eyebrows, a natural amused smirk shaping his mouth, strong hands that I couldn’t help noticing while I was looking down. The hands gave him away as older than us by maybe a decade.

He snorted laughter. “No? Well, that may be, but I can tell—”

“Get away from my omega,” Jared said.

Tom didn’t react to Jared’s voice or tone. He took a step closer and leaned in, almost brushing his nose against the collar of Jensen’s shirt. A deep, slow inhalation that I felt, and his eyes closed with pleasure. He opened them; clear blue irises rimmed by a dark, almost violet colour, looked directly into Jensen’s eyes and winked before finally turning to face Jared, fuming several feet away.

“Why? He’s not yours,” Tom stated. “And if he is, why would you let him out in public like this?” Tom cocked an eyebrow, latent aggression in his posture. Shoulders relaxed, standing with his right foot braced back. His scent something pungent and damp, and I wondered if it was what black powder would smell like. I wanted to get away from them, but Jensen’s heat-addled and drug-slow body was frozen in place, too close to the blast radius for my comfort.

Tom, without taking his eyes from Jared, reached out and brushed the small of Jensen’s back. “There’s only one place he should be. Bed. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” His palm pressed down, hot and flat, and like a collapsing storm, Jared’s aggression broke free and poured from him. Long legs, a long reach, he was on Tom in a single heartbeat, shoving him back. Tom grunted and barely kept himself from sprawling on the floor, but came back at Jared with his own surprising speed and power. I flinched, breaking Jensen free of his trance, and scurried away. Not far. Jensen’s body heated painfully at even the idea of leaving his Alpha. Or any Alpha right now; I couldn’t be sure.

Tom collided with Jared, his initial swing missing when Jared dodged it gracefully. Tom put his momentum into his shoulder and slammed against Jared, knocking them both to the floor. Jared went down easy, letting his legs collapse so he could roll to his hip and get a hand under him to brace himself up even as Tom slid off of him and hit the ground hard with that same shoulder. Jared was on him instantly, straddling his hips and yanking an arm up behind Tom’s back. With his free hand, he grabbed a fistful of Tom’s hair and used it to bounce his cheek off the unforgiving cement tiled floor. Jared did it again, and once more and as Tom’s face rebounded the last time, I could see, and smell, blood smeared on the tiles.

Jared sensed it too and let out an irritated growl. He lurched to his feet, breathing hard, hair ruffled and in his eyes. He raked it out of his face with splayed fingers and his eyes were wild, dark green and jealously-narrowed. Jared put his hand out and I took it, curled mine around his first two fingers. I tugged. Jensen was trembling and needed comfort and I needed Jared to help us. The omega’s body did what it was born to do no matter my dull Beta instincts, and seeing two Alphas fight in front of us, _over_ us, was almost more than Jensen could withstand. The store was too bright, too loud. Jared felt the tug but waited until Tom rolled himself over onto his back. Touched a hand to his split cheek and bared his fangs at Jared looming over him.

“Fucker,” Tom snarled and made to sit up.

“Stay down, asshole,” Jared said. “Don’t fucking move until we’re gone. You’re lucky I’ve had a long day already.”

“Whatever,” Tom sneered, wincing at the bruise forming behind the cut. But he stayed where he was. “Hey,” he called after us as Jared led the way to the exit. I knew better than to turn. “Little boy, you come find me when you’re bored of that punk.”

 _Little boy. Little girl. Pretty. Pretty, pretty prettyprettypretty_ “Are you okay, Jen?” Jared asked as he pushed through the doors to the parking lot. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see him come up to you. So stupid. I’m so sorry, Jen—”

“It’s fine, Alpha,” I forced through Jensen’s numb lips. We weren’t fine. I remembered everything, even if Jensen didn’t. I remembered my father… The doctor. I was his pretty little girl, his pretty whore. I hated that word, pretty. The sound of it was broken fingers and blistered skin, sharp teeth and a disgusting tongue and everything else too big and so mean, and even if Jensen didn’t remember, his body knew and it was trying to shut down. We stumbled. Jared caught us and eased us back to the car as I tried to calm Jensen, put him back to sleep, deepen his breathing. I did not understand why he refused to remember and understand what he and I had been through. I might be caught off guard on occasion, but knowledge is power. I knew what to do with who I was, how to use what I’d been through. Jensen let himself be crippled by it, which was why we were all better off when I was in control.

“Well,” Jared said, an embarrassed laugh, once we were back in the car. “That, uh, that didn’t work so well. I’m sorry,” he repeated. “But did you see anything you liked? I could go back and get it for you. Now, or, or whenever.”

“Silk,” I replied. Carefully and with intention, visualising the scene to distract Jensen, to bring him back around, make him compliant. Jared blinked at me, and I saw his pupils saucer at Jensen’s heat-scent.

“I want silk sheets. I want a canopy and drapes all around us so no one can see what we do, so it feels like the world isn’t out there. I never want to leave our bed.”

“…Oh,” Jared breathed. “I… Yeah. I do, too. I mean, I want—would like, _love_ —”

I leaned across the space between us and stopped his mouth with a kiss. The metallic taste of rage was still on his tongue, but fading fast and I helped lick it from his palate. He was slow to respond to the kiss. Just held still and let me work his mouth open wide, tease at his tongue, curl over his teeth. Touch the tip of one sharp canine, push at it until I winced. I whined then, Jensen’s body too hot, too tight around me, all at once someplace foreign and uncomfortable. Another complaint, half-stifled, but I was losing control, and that’s when Jared finally reacted. Kissed us back, wrapped one hand around the back of Jensen’s neck and held us in place as his wide, slick tongue filled Jensen’s mouth.

Jared fumbled between his legs. I noticed because I had to open our eyes to orient myself, to stay where I was. Reaching, Jared broke the kiss only to kick his seat back away from the steering wheel, making room for Jensen to get closer. He pulled, growled when I resisted, then stammered when he saw why.

“Jen—Jensen, y-you—w-wha—I-I-I—”

Shoes came off easy, kicked under the dash. The sweats were a little tricky because Jared still had his hand on Jensen’s head, but leaving them dangling from one ankle was good enough. Maybe someone getting into their car nearby would see the pale flash of Jensen’s ass as we took Jared’s invitation and crawled into his lap, but the lightly tinted windows and Saturday afternoon would give us some privacy.

“I didn’t mean—” Jared tried again.

“Will you fuck me, Alpha?” I asked, slipping our hand over the front of Jared’s pants. It would take two to handle what I felt there and lust was the linchpin I needed. Jensen wasn’t going to ruin this for us. I wouldn’t let him. “Please? I need you. I don’t want to wait. Please don’t make me wait.” Each word was a button popped, material yanked on, until I could get my fingers around him. “Alpha,” I purred, and he was so smooth. Warm and long and I could feel his pulse in the thick veins feeding his heart’s blood to his cock. He was big. Maybe the biggest we’d ever had—though that was hard to judge as we had been so small for so long and everything had seemed monstrous and huge.

“ _Jensen_ —”

“Shh, Alpha,” I soothed as I adjusted him, tucked him back between Jensen’s legs, slick-soaked and aching already. But he was careful. Considerate. When he slid down and hunched his hips up, seeking, he kept his eyes on Jensen’s face, said his name again, quietly, a worried question.

“This isn’t—we can go—” He gasped when the thick head of his cock slipped inside Jensen’s body and then out as I tried to spread my knees wider. I needed more, all of him. I hated Jensen’s heats because of the desperation, the urge to rush through this pleasure.

Jared’s cock nudged deep between Jensen’s legs, up the crease of his thigh, and Jared tried one last time to be chivalrous. “Jen, y’don’t have to—”

“I know,” I said. “I want to.” I did. _Nothing_ had felt this good in a very long time, heat or no heat, and if I kept this Alpha happy, maybe it could stay this good.

“Fuck. Okay,” Jared murmured and closed his eyes. Pushed his hips up, and oh how he wanted his omega.

So I gave Jensen to him.

He was _big_. It even hurt a little in a way we’d never experienced before. Relaxed and soft and willing—even if Jensen couldn’t say so himself right now, he _was_ willing. He was born to be right here, sliding with an aching, tender stretch over his Alpha’s cock. I knew what he wanted as I settled heavily in Jared’s lap, _pushed_ down onto him. All the way, so he felt it when he hit Jensen’s cervix, so he knew his knot was wanted by the way he was taken to the thick base of his cock. No tentative moves, no hovering; Jensen wanted him, and more than that, we _needed_ Jared.

“ _Oh._ Fuck. Jen, honey, yeah. You feel so good, baby. I can’t believe I found you. You’re here. _Mine_.” He said that staring up at Jensen, a frown wrinkling his brow. I petted my fingers over the lines, thumbed across his eyes just to watch them snap open again, frantic to see. Cupped his jaw and kissed him again. Hard, messy with the angle we were at. Dug hands into his hair and held on as I began to move, rocking in his lap.

This wouldn’t last long. Jared’s clean, wild scent was becoming more turbulent. Electric, lightning ready to strike; I could sense the air crackling around him, feel his sweat between my fingers, and his grip was bruising, painful on Jensen’s thighs as he kept us from rising too high off of him. Forced us down again and again. I tried to fight him, to pull off just to have him open us up once more, but he was too strong. Perfect. Controlling, demanding, rough as he could be in the car. I had to let go of his hair, brace palms against his chest instead, and he never once looked away from Jensen’s face.

“Gonna,” he panted. “Gonna come, baby. Fuck. S-stop, we shouldn’t—”

He threw his head back against the seat as he came, slitted eyes locked on Jensen’s, mouth open wide, upper lip curling back into a snarl. I jammed the back of my hand against his teeth, scraped my knuckles on a fang, cut the skin and sighed at the pain, the way it came and went, replaced by the anesthetic numb-buzz of his saliva mixing with my blood. It wasn’t enough to claim us, change us irreparably, but just the hint of it flung Jensen into his own orgasm. Too fast, a free fall. I cried out; clenched jaw, hands tight around nothing, soaked thighs straining to keep my position, but like a ripcord being yanked, a trap door opening beneath me, I tumbled away into nothing.


	7. Chapter 7

Jensen’s eyes showed white under those long lashes. He tipped forward like he was melting and Jared had to catch him or end up with a faceful of dizzy omega.

“Jen?” he panted, “honey, hey. Are you okay? Jensen?”

“Alpha?” He struggled with the word, eyes completely closed. “Where..?”

“What?”

Jensen whined, wiggled until Jared let him have his way just to see what he would do. Forehead to Jared’s shoulder first, and it sounded as if he was having trouble breathing, like before when he’d covered his own mouth. Another whine and Jensen tried to shift back into his seat, but they were knotted together, locked into the position they were in.

“Oh! Alpha, oh no, no no no—”

“No, what, honey? You’re okay, shh. You were perfect. I love you, Jen. C’mon, let me see you.” Jared tried to push Jensen up but he was dead weight, breathing in rattling gasps and raking his nails up and down Jared’s arms, raising welts on his skin. “Ow, hey. Stop. Look at me, huh? Jensen? _Hey_!”

A weak mewling was all Jared got. Jensen slumped and Jared spent the next twenty minutes baffled, petting the back of Jensen’s head and murmuring to him as Jensen jolted and gasped in his arms. Slick and sex and withering heat were humid breaths Jared sucked in under the solid weight of his omega, and he had to concentrate to keep the way Jensen tightened and nursed at his dick, squeezed his knot as he—what _was_ he doing? What had happened to him? Anyway, it was impossible to ignore how good it felt. Jared could stay hard for hours with little thought to it; scent alone triggered it if he wasn’t careful.

And Jensen was his _mate_. It hadn’t sunk in yet. Jensen was _his_. Forever. They were one now. Made for each other.

For all the dazzling advancements in science, what was understood about mating and bonding still seemed to Jared rather hand-wavy and vague: there were scent receptors in the brain as unique as fingerprints, and they remained inactive, dormant, useless, until one encountered another who, for whatever reason, had the pheromone that triggered those receptors, brought them to life, and lit up other parts of the brain. Enhanced the drive to procreate, to serve and protect, depending. It felt like love and there was no greater feeling, nothing so important as having that sensation, always.

Jared had it now, and it was amazing. Almost perfect. The only thing missing was his claiming bite that would make a subtle change to Jensen’s scent, a chemical alteration which would allow Jared to find Jensen anywhere in the world, as if Jensen had a part of Jared inside him that Jared _needed_ to stay alive, and he would always seek it out. Or he’d suffer, wither, ache. They both would. Should… Alastair had intimated claiming might not work, that Jensen’s physiology or messed up chemistry or _whatever_ could keep Jared’s mark from taking.

Every single cell and thought and chest ache and gut urge in Jared shrieked at him to test that theory. To put his teeth through the skin and muscles low on Jensen’s neck and pierce his carotid artery so the proteins in Jared’s saliva could be carried to Jensen’s brain and do their work.

He didn’t. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Jared kept himself from doing what his heart wanted him to do. If he ever allowed himself to think about how he could resist such things, he might realise it wasn’t a gift. But he knew he was being selfish, at least. He could try to claim his omega, but he wanted to do it when Jensen would know it was happening. When he would _beg_ for it to happen.

Another something unexplored, half-ignored: he wanted to know what it was like to give someone what they asked for. Something important, once in a lifetime.

Jensen was quieter. Not asleep, but not trying to move away either. Breathing slower. He was tense and sort of… _ticking_. Whole-body pulsing like a slow heartbeat. His toes moved against Jared’s thighs, too, as if tapping out impatience. Jared tried speaking to him again, called his name, asked him questions, but got no response. Exhaustion was on Jared’s side though, and it wasn’t long before he felt himself slipping from the clenching hold. Not that he wanted it to be over, but there were better places to be tied to his omega than a parking lot.

Jensen’s body was on autopilot too, keeping him from being utterly limp when Jared lifted him up and over to the other seat. He wasn’t worried about the mess Jensen might make: most things like upholstery and sex-specific clothes were all made with a silicone weave. Non-absorbent and easy to wipe clean. Jensen was right—he needed new sheets. His were cheap material, pearled up and stretched out, soaked in his sweat and stained with come he hadn’t cared about catching in an old t-shirt.

“Can you—here, just—” Jensen was probably used to being dressed by someone else. Barely helped, but didn’t hinder Jared getting his pants back up, the seatbelt locked over him.

Jensen stayed something-like awake the rest of the trip home. Wouldn’t talk to Jared, or look at him. He shrugged tight shoulders and gave slow-motion nods of his head that might have been the car rocking him for all Jared could tell. He looked upset. Jared tried to reassure him, but he didn’t think he got through to the omega.

Home was a tenth-story one bedroom apartment in the middle of downtown, right along the bus line, the train depot about eight blocks to the north. A five hundred unit complex, gated and encoded, with a grocery store, bakery, laundromat and dry cleaners built into the ground floor. It had three decent work-out rooms, a pool, open communal spaces inside, fast elevators and soundproof walls. Jared didn’t have a balcony, but he had a corner apartment with a semi-private entryway lined with tall palm trees in concrete planters. His closest neighbor on the same floor was across the way from him, doors mostly blocked from each other’s view by a huge, pleasantly burbling fountain. A pretty set up, and Jensen walked right by all of it without looking up even once.

Jared got him out of the car and onto his own bare feet. Swaying, listing to one side as if the left half of his body was asleep, he struggled to get his hood up, but flinched back from Jared when he tried to help. Head bowed, eyes down, all Jared could see of him as they rode the elevator up to Jared’s floor was staticky hair clinging to his cheeks and a dragging lower lip. He kept close though, which was the only reason Jared felt okay having his hands full, Jensen’s life in the box between them. Stayed right next to Jared, following on his heels. Squeezed himself behind Jared into the corner of the elevator, and if someone had joined them they would have been confused by the scent of sex and fear and worry coming off the two, but they made it to Jared’s door without anyone crossing their path, and once Jensen was over the threshold, no one would see him or even know he was there for months.

Jared locked the door and flicked an overhead light on, then right back off when Jensen ducked his head down lower. The omega made it as far as the carpet in the living room, and Jared edged carefully around him.

“Jen,” Jared started after setting the box down on the dumpster-find coffee table. Stopped, remembering what Charlie had said about asking the omega too many questions. And he had millions. Mannered questions as to Jensen’s comfort and needs, childish ones about his favourite colour, what music he liked. Intimate: did it feel good, what they had done? Did he want to do it again, and when? Jared wanted to know everything, _right now_. But he’d already scared Jensen, had heard those other voices come out, unprovoked as far as Jared could tell, and the only time Jensen had acted comfortable, relaxed, was with Charlie, and she’d been patient with him. Coaxing and sweet. Jared could do that. Try to, at least.

He went to the kitchen and poured filtered water into a quart jar and put it on the coffee table next to Jensen’s box. Took his own shoes off and sat, away from the water, giving Jensen plenty of space on the couch.

“Jen?” he called, softly. “Will you come sit with me?”

Jensen swayed, twisting like his left leg wasn’t going to hold him up, but he sniffed once and shuffled across the room. Folded himself up surprisingly small on the couch: legs tucked, hands deep in his pockets—there wasn’t an inch of him straying off the cushion.

“There’s water if you want it. Will you help me make a shopping list? Tell me what you like to eat? When you’re up to it. And… Um, you can do whatever you want in here, okay? I—it’s kind of a mess still. I didn’t—” he laughed, nervous and bewildered. “I didn’t expect company.”

“I’m sorry,” Jensen whispered.

“Oh no, no, Jen, don’t be sorry. I-I was only joking. I mean. I—this, this was so sudden, and—and I wanted to bring you home as soon as I could, you know? I… You wanted to come with me, right? You said—”

But it wasn’t Jensen who had said to get him out of the clinic. It had been Ellen, apparently. And she, along with the other voices…the other ‘multiples’, Alastair called them, they were all liars. Manipulative and even dangerous, according to the doctor. Jared put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. _Ignore them_ , he reminded himself. _Ignore them and only work with Jensen._ _…But is this Jensen? How can I tell?_

“W-water.”

Jared looked up. Jensen had pulled one hand from his pocket, was tapping his middle finger against his thumb gently, and looking at the jar on the table a couple feet from him. He rocked forwards, then back into place and put that twitching hand over his eyes. Kept rocking, but his lips moved, soundlessly repeating the word. Jared sat, confused for a few seconds before scrambling around the table and to the floor, kneeling in front of the couch. He picked up the glass jar.

“Here, Jen.”

An eye opened behind those fingers, flashing gold like welding sparks. One hand came down slowly, the other emerged from a pocket, and Jared kept ahold of the jar until he was sure Jensen wasn’t going to drop it. He smelled strange, Jared realised, watching him methodically drink. Briney and like…ammonia. Industrial cleaners, generic detergent, and like other people; the most subtle hint of communal living—feces and vomit and slick, all blended together and soaked into his clothes. They probably washed everyone’s things together, and years of it had rubbed the scent into Jensen’s skin. Jared blew a breath through his nose to clear it away, felt his upper lip curling at the notion that his omega hadn’t been properly cared for, not treated like the prize he was. He’d been seen as no different than anyone else in that place. Damaged, broken, helpless. No value other than as a thing to be studied, medicated and subdued.

“Alpha.”

Jensen had wet lips, a damp chin. Leaking eyes too, and the water left in the jar sloshed with his rocking. Faster now, sorry eyes on Jared, as if what Jared was thinking was the truth of himself. He made a little noise when Jared pulled the jar out of his hands and put it on the floor, but he kissed Jared back, opening his mouth to keep their teeth from clicking together. Jared tilted his head for a better angle, to get his tongue into Jensen’s mouth, and then Jensen bit him. Hard, pinching his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Ow! What the fuck?” Jared hissed and jerked back, a hand to his mouth. Jensen’s eyes fluttered, squinted, as if he expected to be hit, but then he leaned forward, offered his mouth again and Jared accepted it, took it, forgetting immediately what just happened. Got bit again for his carelessness. And Jared didn’t mean to, but it _hurt_. He shoved Jensen’s chest, slammed him back against the couch and stood up all in one motion.

“What—why… What the fuck, Jensen? You don’t want to kiss me now? Did I do something?”

No answer. The omega curled into a ball and huddled against the arm of the couch.

“Jen—”

That made it worse. Ears were covered, knees brought up to his face, and Jared rubbed his sore lip and stood there. A minute. Five. Jensen rocked awkwardly, hunched over. Jared sighed.

After a few more minutes, Jared removed Jensen’s personal file from the box of his stuff and put it on the counter in the kitchen next to where he plugged his laptop in, then carried Jensen’s box into the bedroom. He placed it by the sliding mirrored closet door, next to other boxes full of documents he needed to review for Stuart. Fuck. What the fuck was he going to do about his job? Could he leave Jensen alone so soon? Would he _ever_ be able to? Jared was sweating, pain and frustration and now anxiety messing with his nerves. He’d go in on Monday, but not stay the full day. Explain to Stuart what had happened and ask for a little time off—at least to do more from home until they were settled in. That could work.

Not really thinking about it, he stripped the sheets from his bed, shook the pillows from their cases, and threw it all in the compact washer in the bathroom. A few mechanical knocks to start, then it hummed quietly, and Jared hoped the white noise would mask him turning in circles around the apartment, lost in his own space. What would he normally be doing? He peeked through the blinds. A decent day; he’d have gone running this morning (instead he’d driven across town to be with his mate). Those file needed to be sorted through. Video games. He might have walked a few blocks to a bar to be around other people for an hour. Felt like that was something he needed to do so it wasn’t so jarring when he had to go to the office on Mondays and deal with bustling bodies, overworked faces. He retreated back to the bedroom. Sat on the floor and opened the nearest file box.

Two hours later and his back was screaming at him, but he had a whole page of notes, and papers neatly stacked and flagged, hopefully useful to Stuart in his next deposition. The whirr of the laundry was still going in the other room—

Jared groaned to his feet and bumped right into Jensen as he left the bedroom. Had to catch the omega by the shoulders to keep from knocking him down.

“Alpha,” Jensen murmured. “I-I fixed… I finished… In there—”

He smelled even worse than before. Acrid stress-scent, burnt coffee breath; the reek from his clothing made Jared want to gag. He ran his hands down Jensen’s arms to his wrists so he could take a step back, get a clean gulp of air. “Thanks. You didn’t have to. I thought you were sleeping. Are you okay?”

Jensen shook his head but stammered, “I-I-I’m okay. N-not s-s-sleeping.” Then he squeaked and slammed himself against Jared, face up like before, but Jared didn’t take the bait this time, not even when Jensen went onto his toes—he saw that open mouth, those angry-looking eyes. He stepped back. Jensen followed him, and pain burned around his waist as Jensen dug his nails into Jared’s skin through his shirt. Jared yanked Jensen’s hands away, squeezing his wrists hard, pissed off. Jensen struggled, fought him, clawing. Dug a long furrow down his arm before Jared got both Jensen’s hands. Felt bones pop and grind against each other, and then of all things, Jensen relaxed. Kept his face up, but his expression shifted into something dreamy and he wasn’t pushing on Jared anymore.

“What the fuck are you _doing_?” Jared growled and twisted Jensen’s wrists.

A gasped, “S-s-sorry. _Sorry_!” then those lips again, but closed now, jaw clenched tight, and Jared risked it. Put his mouth to the omega’s, ready to dodge at the first hint of teeth. No biting this time; soft kisses, delicate and quick because Jared was learning. A longer touch, then tongue-tip against Jensen’s closed mouth. A chopped little whine from Jensen, and Jared let go of one of his hands to grab his jaw instead. Pinched Jensen’s cheeks, forced his mouth open. He took Jared’s tongue without struggling, and fuck, sour breath or not, it was _amazing_. Jared’s nerves sang under his skin, he could feel his heart beating in his dick.

Jensen’s tongue flicked against his and his mouth was filling with spit—couldn’t swallow with Jared holding his jaw like that. He smelled terrible; something rotten-sweet to go with the clinic funk, and he would probably be drawing blood somewhere on Jared if he could, but Jared didn’t care. Wasn’t really mad. A little _startled_. Confused. It’s not like… He couldn’t—was not going to take Jensen back to that place. The omega belonged with him, and he would figure out how to deal with whatever came up.

A light touch against his crotch: the back of Jensen’s free hand. Jared didn’t make him stop—and why would he? This was the whole point, wasn’t it? Jared grunted against Jensen’s mouth when that hand wormed its way into his pants, cupped his dick, and Jensen’s eyes shimmered when Jared leaned back to look, white stars against deep brown.

“I-I can… I—do you wanna…” came the meek suggestion when Jared let go of his face.

“What do _you_ want, Jen?” because Jared wanted to give him _everything._

Jensen frowned, concentrating. He tried to use the hand Jared was still holding. Jared let him go and Jensen put the tips of two fingers into his mouth, touched tongue and lower lip, and his eyes strobed as he flicked them to and away-from Jared’s face. “I can do _this_ ,” he whispered, slurred, licking his fingers.

“Fuck. Okay, yeah.” That fucking _mouth._ His cock jumped at the thought of it wrapped around him.

“You won’t be mad, after?”

Jared sputtered a laugh. “What? No. No, of course not. Why—” but Jensen nodded to himself and dropped to his knees right there in the doorway.

It was messy, and Jared came faster than he ever had in his life. Jensen kissed the whole length of him, rubbed his cheek on Jared’s cock so he could get close and lap at his balls, then sucked his cock down and never pulled off once, until Jared murmured a warning. It was a lot to swallow, but Jensen raised up on his knees and pulled Jared deep into his throat, both hands squeezing the knot pressed to his lips. The first jet of come dumped down a wide-open throat, then Jensen wrenched himself back and let the rest of it cover his face. Come pooled in the corners of his closed eyes, slid into his nose with the way his head was tilted back, ran down his neck. Splashed over his tongue and those perfect lips, and he licked them clean just to spit it all back out over his chin.

He gasped and opened his eyes when Jared grabbed him, come stringing between his lashes. Like he didn’t believe what Jared had promised him he flinched, but Jared smeared his hands through the wet mess of his omega’s face. Smoothed come over his cheeks, his neck, into the hair at the back of his neck. Wanted his scent all over Jensen, needed to cover up that nasty hospital smell. It wasn’t enough, but it was a start, and Jensen looked pleased with the attention, and fucking gorgeous all wet with it. And Jared loved him that way. It wouldn’t take much to get hard again; to keep the omega drenched in come, full of it.

But he was in heat. Jared’s stomach dropped as he remembered. It was weird to have forgotten, but…Jensen’s scent was so awful. It had been sweet and welcoming the night before, but now smelled spoiled and almost nauseating. Jared guessed it must be Jensen’s medication messing with his chemistry. It’s the only thing that made sense. Jared tried not to think about having to get used to it.

“Let’s take a shower?”

A nod and Jensen let himself be hauled to his feet. Trailed Jared into the bathroom, wiped his come-runny nose with the back of his hand as he stood still and watched Jared prepare the water.

“Go ahead,” Jared said. “Lemme get you a towel.”

There was a pile of clothes in Jensen’s spot when Jared came back. He wanted to throw them away.

Jensen looked like a dream through the filmy-clear curtain. Something vague but definitely beautiful. This whole thing felt like a dream if Jared was honest with himself. Familiar and terrifying. Easier not to think about it, he decided, not try to analyze it too much.

He stepped into the shower behind Jensen, and there was no way he could keep his hands to himself. Ran them down that wet, gorgeous back. Followed the flow of the water over Jensen’s hips and ass. Jensen peeked back at him over his shoulder, his cheeks scrubbed clean. Jared washed the rest of him, from the crown of his head to the pink soles of his feet. Jensen’s toes curled and his foot twitched, and Jared remembered what Alastair said about Jensen being burned in a fire.

“Does it hurt?” Jared asked, running a thumb over the arch.

“Nuh-uh. Not really. Feels kinda tight, is all.”

Jared let him rinse and get out, then washed himself. Quickly, eager to stay close to Jensen now that he was finally responsive. Jensen was waiting patiently for him, his long hair towel-fluffed, towel over his shoulders, clutched in both hands, the bottom half of his face hidden in it. He shivered, and Jared wrapped his towel around his own waist hurriedly.

“C’mon. I’ve got clothes you can wear. I don’t… I don’t want you to wear anything from the clinic.”

“My hoodie,” Jensen said, refusing to budge when Jared tried to lead him from the bathroom.

“I’ll get you a new one.”

“I… I don’t want a different one. I want that one.”

“Jensen—”

“ _No._ ” Like a child, Jensen stamped his foot down.

Jared put his hands up. “Fine! Fine, okay. You’re gonna let me wash it though, at least?”

Jensen bit his lips together, considering, then bobbed his head and shivered again. Jared gathered the sheets out of the dryer before walking away, his heart pounding. It was hard not to be irritated, but it helped when he heard Jensen patter along behind him.

Jared dropped the clean sheets on the bed, then rummaged around until he had a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, but Jensen wouldn’t take them, so Jared put them on the lonely desk chair and started making the bed. Jensen watched Jared’s every move with huge, anxious eyes, and since it was the only thing he’d communicated with Jared about other than sex and his stupid hoodie, Jared asked, “Do you remember what happened? The fire?”

“Yeah,” came out all muffled, the towel hiding his face again. “I remember the heat. I ran to my mom’s room… I _tried_ to, but the floor was so hot. She was yelling. Then I fell. The floor broke, and I landed downstairs. Grandpa picked me up and carried me outside.”

“Your grandpa?” Jared blurted, surprised. “I didn’t know you had anyone else. Any family.”

Jensen shrugged and shivered again. He looked at Jared’s bed, the corners military-tight, and chewed thoughtfully on the towel. “Is it naptime? Sometimes we get extra meds and have to go to sleep.”

Truthfully, Jared _was_ exhausted, and the thought of being in bed with his omega was very appealing. Jensen probably needed to take medication; Jared should put the schedule on his fridge or something, but it couldn’t possibly hurt him to miss one dose.

He was so fucking _cute._ Jared’s mouth quirked into a half-smile at the thought. Jensen was standing there pigeon-toed, gnawing on Jared’s cheap, scratchy towel, his eyes twinkling like diamonds. In the soft light coming through the blinds, he was smooth and pale pink and not at all concerned with his nudity.

 _Jared_ should have been concerned about that, but he was still so awestruck this was happening at all it didn’t occur to him to wonder about Jensen’s complete lack of modesty.

“Alpha?”

“Jared,” he corrected. “Say it again for me.”

“Jared,” Jensen repeated solemnly. He smiled, starlit eyes crinkling at the corners. He made a move towards the clothes Jared had supplied. Draped his damp towel over the back of the chair, but Jared stopped him.

“Jen. Just come here.”

Shuffling, biting on the pad of his thumb, Jensen obeyed. His scent was cleaner, though not as pure as Jared wanted. What _did_ he want? To touch; to _hold_ Jensen. He put his warm, soft cheek against Jared’s shoulder. Revealed his own and Jared saw the scars. Bite marks at the curve where neck met shoulder, some deep into the muscle there. His own skin tingled and his heart jumped, an angry, possessive rush of blood to his face.

Jensen wriggled, his fingers tickling down Jared’s ribs to his hips. Lower, his thumbs brushing into the dark hair at Jared’s groin.

“Alpha?” A questioning, high-pitched whisper. Sensed Jared’s agitation. Firmer, those thumbs, pressing against the base of Jared’s dick. “I can do that again,” he offered. “H-hold it in my mouth. If you want. Or jus’ play with it. I’m _real_ good at that.” Jensen lifted his head, blinking those huge eyes at him innocently despite what he was saying, despite the little…kid…voice…

“Joey?”

Jensen sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, distorting the smile. Nodded, and Jared’s stomach bottomed out, threatened to come up out of his mouth a second later. He swatted Jensen’s hands away and flung himself back, almost falling on the bed in his haste. Jensen pouted and squinted at him.

“Said you wouldn’t be _mad_.”

“I-I-I—”

“You don’t wanna do that again?” Fingers in his mouth like before, and Jared covered his own with his hand.

“We can _fuck_ ,” Jensen said, the word not much of one, emphasised like he was repeating something he didn’t really know the true meaning of. “I’m little but I can do it.”

“No!” Jared shouted behind his palm. Dropped the hand, his vision swimming, and Jensen pouted again. Reached down and petted his own cock absently. Half-hard, he tugged it to one side, nails wet and shiny from being in his mouth. Jared couldn’t help but watch, and Jensen was giving him that bitten smile when he raised his eyes, his guts gone liquid and hot. “Jen, _stop._ ”

“He don’t care,” Jensen said and toed closer. “He’s outside.” And Jensen pointed up, said, “He’s afraid of the dark, but I’m _brave_.”

There wasn’t a single thing Jared could think to do but run. Careened through the door and slammed it shut behind him. Leaned against it and grabbed the knob. Felt Jensen rattle it, gripped it tighter.

“Just—t-take a nap,” Jared stammered. “ _Please._ Just lie down. Go to sleep.” That’s what happened when Jensen switched personalities anyway, wasn’t it? Seemed like it. Hopefully, when he woke up, he would be Jensen again. Not. Not a _kid._ The kid that had sucked Jared off half an hour ago.

The light switch was flicked on, and Jared heard blankets rustle, crawled under. He stood there, back sticking to the door, his hand curled around the knob so hard it hurt, until he _had_ to move. Stiff-kneed, vision swimming, he peeled himself away from the wood only to sink to the floor. Put his arms on his drawn up legs and his head down on them. He smelled bad again, already, pungent fear-scent from under his arms, but he ignored it. Drifted there, the carpet scratchy and uncomfortable under his ass; tried for a while to figure out what had gone wrong. When Jensen had slipped away from him. How he could make sure…it—nothing… That he would know…

He got up eventually. Found some not-too-gross sweats in the laundry basket, and ran the washer again, Jensen’s hoodie in the load. He bundled up the rest of the omega’s clothing and put it in a garbage bag, depositing the haul outside the front door to take to the dumpster later. Tried to make the aforementioned grocery list, but didn’t have a clue what Jensen liked. Sweet things, like the breakfast bar, okay. Did he have allergies? Jared got as far as opening the folder with Jensen’s personal information in it…but didn’t read it. Didn’t need to, he convinced himself. He’d get Jensen talking. He had to. He did dig out the medication schedule, however, and the white paper bag filled with pills and injection pens. Separated them into daily and acute categories, but there was a packet left over with two big blue pills in it. Jared squinted at the tiny print, then dropped the pills on the table, disgusted. He picked them back up and read the directions. Useful for five days after intercourse, most effective when used within three days. Jared’s revulsion became unwilling gratitude.

The day withered away outside, and Jared opened up a few of the blinds, cracked a window to let the breeze in. Warm still, but better than the stifling, stale air in the apartment. Light gleamed under the door to the bedroom the whole time, and Jared never saw a shadow move across it. Watched it for a long time to be sure. Alastair said Jensen would sleep for half an hour, at least, after…this happened.

Four hours went by. It would be full dark in a couple more. Their first day together and they’d barely spoken.

Jared cautiously opened the bedroom door, as if Jensen might be ready to pounce on him and, what, give him another blowjob with the mind of an eight-year-old?

He was asleep, curled up on his side, the heel of his left hand resting over his ear, his right hand in a fist in front of his eyes. Jared took a step into the room; into Jensen’s heat-scent. Faint, but _there_. Sweet, so sweet, it made Jared’s mouth water. Had him inhaling deeply and tiptoeing across the carpet with his brain empty of worry, doubt, stress. He crawled on the bed, touching Jensen who hissed, scared-twitching and Jared hummed, Alpha-rumbled his throat without thinking of doing it, his body’s response to its mate’s distress. It soothed Jensen, and Jared got those hands away from that pretty face. Shiny eyes slitted open, green-tinged, and there was a smile, just-for-Jared he wanted to believe.

“Jen…”

Jensen arched, stretched his back like the sound of his name was warm water over sore muscles. That’s how it worked. Omegas _hurt_ during heats, and only an Alpha could make it better. Proximity was good, touch even better. Words activated certain parts of the brain and eased discomfort slightly; kissing was a sedative. Sex-pleasure overrode agony almost completely, and a claiming bite turned that pain to ecstasy.

“Alpha,” Jensen said back, and Jared didn’t correct him this time. Wedged himself closer, gave Jensen his body to push on, wriggle against. Got one thigh thrown over his hip, hooked tight. Jensen was naked under Jared’s blankets, and he made a soft cooing noise when Jared touched him. Chest first, then up to his neck; pulled him for a kiss—almost did it before stopping himself with a nervous gasp. Searched Jensen’s eyes and wanted so badly to trust him. Instead, Jared cupped his jaw again. The threat of digging in, and Jensen smiled. Blinked slowly, like he knew he deserved it and pressed one warm hand against Jared’s cock through his sweats.

Jared thought of the blue pills on the coffee table. Remembered the child, Joey. Could still sense that clinic-rot on Jensen’s skin under the perfume of his heat-scent, and he didn’t know what to do.

Jensen did. His biology demanded it of both of them, and Jared was helpless against it. Skin on skin; Jensen’s hand on his cock now. Pulling; distracting Jared with the faintest brush of that dangerous mouth on his as Jensen hiked his knees up, curled his spine. The pinch of nails into his hips lessened immediately by the wet-hot slide of Jensen’s hole over the tip of Jared’s cock.

“Jen?” A shaky word, but Jared had to know, thought it had to be obvious if he was being lied to. “ _Jensen_.”

Flashing teeth like he was smiling; his pupils tiny-wide abysses trimmed in gold and Jared slipped into them, into Jensen, so easy. No room for his hand between them anymore, not with Jared rocking— _quivering_ , shaking with pleasure and need, an endless feedback loop—Jensen touched Jared’s face. A mirror of Jared’s hold, but his thumb circled, dragging on the edge of Jared’s lip. Jared licked at it, then let it into his mouth. Sucked, and Jensen’s eyes rolled, but then Jared felt the nail scrape the roof of his mouth. Very much on purpose, because Jensen did it again, his other fingers clawing at Jared’s face.

Jensen flailed when Jared snarled and flipped him onto his back, but there was no strength behind it, and he let Jared pin him. Lifted his chin for Jared’s forearm to bar his throat, gave his wrists to Jared to crush together. His legs fell wide around Jared’s waist and there was that smile again. Teeth, but his lower lip trembled.

“F-fu- _fuck_. Fuck me. Do it, Alpha. Do it do it do it, g-give it—”

“Jensen—”

“Your knot, give—gimme—”

Well, he’d planned on it, but Jensen was acting like that was the only reason this was happening—his scent gave it away. Panicked, desperate, a scared-lust like Jared would take it from him at the last second. And maybe he should. Maybe this was a bad idea. This wasn’t all Jensen meant to Jared. …It was important, okay yeah, but _love_. Jared loved him and wanted him to be okay and obviously being this close to him wasn’t doing him any good. Was it? He should have given Jensen time to adjust, to learn a new routine. Alastair had said that was important. 

He pulled back. Had to shove Jensen down on the bed when he tried to hold on, to keep Jared from getting away. Scooted to the end of the bed, on his knees, Jensen splayed out before him, the omega’s pink cock hard and leaking clear slick on his white belly. He ran his hands through that stickiness and between his own legs. Pulled himself open, showed Jared what he was leaving behind.

“What, are you saving it up?” Jensen sneered, fingering himself, shoving in to his knuckles.

“N-no. Jensen? No, I mean… I don’t… We shouldn’t—what if you get pregnant? I didn’t think about—”

“Can’t tell me you don’t want that.”

“I—no, I don’t. Not—not yet, not now. Jen—”

“Get me all fat and gross, pump out snot-nosed babies for you. That’s all we’re good for.”

“We? Oh—”

“You can just give ’em away if you want. Don’t matter. Daddy can do whatever he wants to us, huh?”

“Shut up!” Jared yelled, so loud they both flinched. Jensen recovered faster: rocked up to a sitting position and spat at Jared. It hit him in the face, got in his eye and his gaping mouth, and his hand flew up to wipe at it automatically, before he could even get mad. Then that caught up and he backhanded the omega. Felt teeth cut into his knuckles, heard Jensen cry out. Saw him collapse onto the bed and cover his wounded mouth, but Jared didn’t stop to check how bad it was. He scrambled off the bed. Out of the room. Left the door open behind him this time. So upset he almost wanted Jensen to come after him. Angry enough, too. Wished somewhere in the turmoil that Jensen would chase him and say he was sorry, he’d never do that again. Jared wanted an apology and promises, and his heart hurt. His belly. Breathing too fast and shaking, he sat on the couch and put his head in his hands.

He stayed there a long time. Until his kneecaps went numb from the pressure of his elbows, until the carpet lost colour and definition, and his eyes stung from looking at nothing. Jensen had sobbed a few times and screamed, sort of, a harsh coughing noise that must have burned his throat, but he didn’t leave the bed as far as Jared could tell.

Jared’s neck hurt when he finally picked his head up and looked around. Night had fallen, and Jared was starving. Jensen had definitely missed his medications. Could he take them on an empty stomach? Did it even matter at this point? So what if he got sick? At least he’d calm down… Maybe.

He fumbled at the bag with cold fingers. There were too many for him to remember what was what. Definitely the injection, and the red pills. A white one, he was pretty sure. The blue ones, too. Just in case.

Jared palmed the pills and clicked the pen into place, so all he would have to do is put it against Jensen’s arm and push the button on the end to deliver the medicine. Picked up the jar of water still on the floor, and went back to the bedroom. Jensen was exactly where Jared had left him. Asleep—no. A flash of gold and Jensen convulsed when he saw Jared. No sound, he whimpered with his whole body.

“Sit up,” Jared said, voice dull in his ears. Showed the omega the pen, his fistful of pills. “You have to, Jen. Please, just take them.”

Slowly, Jensen pushed himself up, like gravity was dragging at him especially hard. His face utterly slack, and pathetic for it, he couldn’t lift his eyes to Jared’s, but he held a hand out. Swallowed the pills without protest. Without water; Jared left it on the nightstand in case he wanted it later. He had to give Jensen the shot, and the fact that he was sort of afraid to…sort of pissed him off.

Jensen huffed through his nose, scared—more scared than Jared, and _good_ —when Jared suddenly stomped in close to him. Gasped when the pen jammed against his bicep too hard. The needles were tiny and he probably didn’t feel anything when they poked into him, but he started crying anyway.

The taste of those tears on Jared’s tongue, the way they made his mouth go dry and his skin pebble up, made the bites and scratches sting. Reminded Jared that all Jensen seemed to want was to hurt him, unless they were fucking…and even then… What if that’s all this ever was? Jensen acting like a wild animal. Jared wasn’t the one who had a temperament for that, and _no_ , no no no, he didn’t want to think—and _fuck him_ for reminding Jared—

He slapped Jensen again. Palm of his hand, and the impact was loud and left the omega’s cheek bright red. He didn’t go over, just rocked to the side and then back up, and turned sopping, surprised eyes to Jared. Jared bared his teeth this time, showed Jensen his fangs, and slapped him again when Jensen hitched a breath like he was going to scream or beg or talk in a voice that wasn’t his or what the fuck ever. Wanting to choke him made Jared leave the room again.

Jared landed on the couch so hard something creaked in its joints. It was fucking impossible. There was no way this could work. And it was only partly Jensen’s fault. There was too much shit to deal with…and Jared had no actual intention of dealing with it at all. What did ‘dealing’ even _mean_?

He glanced over at the medication on the table. Several of them were sedatives…

With a frustrated gowl, Jared threw an arm over his face. That arm was numb when he woke up two hours later, his stomach hollowed out and gnawing on itself. He sat up stiffly, his neck kinked. For a second, he couldn’t remember why he was naked on his couch and not in his own bed. He blinked blurred eyes, rubbed at them and yawned, a deep inhale which reminded him. His heart skipped a beat at the mouthful of faint-sweet omega scent. Fading heat and fear, sorrow, and Jared wasn’t doing anything to help ease any of it. He’d always been slow to wake up and was halfway to his room before he remembered how he’d felt when he’d last left it.

Jared peered into the room. Jensen was huddled close to one edge of the bed. It kind of broke Jared’s heart. How many nights had he slept like that in his own life? Feeling insecure and lonely and like everything was his fault.

Projecting, maybe. Maybe the omega didn’t give two fucks about what he’d done to his Alpha. Maybe he wasn’t scared and was instead as angry as Jared. Maybe he didn’t want to be here. Would rather be back at the clinic.

Jared flicked the light off and walked the memorised path to his side of the bed. Flopped down on it, not bothering to be careful of waking Jensen. Why start useless rituals? He obviously couldn’t give the omega what he needed to be happy, and would probably end up taking him back to the clinic tomorrow. Or whenever Jensen decided to talk to him long enough to ask that of him. Maybe he’d just put him in a cab, call Alastair and tell him Jensen was on his way, have someone there to collect him.

Jared should have expected this failure.

“Alpha?”

Jared ignored the query. More than likely, it wasn’t Jensen talking to him anyway.

“Jared?”

It was harder to ignore being touched.

Jared willed himself to be still when he felt Jensen turn over, but couldn’t help the rumbled warning when those long nails scraped at his ribs, but the touch was light. Fingertips followed, gliding over his skin. Jared was pulled on; stayed where he was, and when Jensen realised he wasn’t going to turn over, he burrowed in close. Forehead against the back of Jared’s arm, lifting it through sheer force, and the omega curled around him from behind. Nuzzling in closer, Jensen used his body to work Jared flat, and he was waiting for Jared to push him away. When he did, Jensen intercepted him. Careless of his eyes being poked, he met Jared’s hand with his face. Rubbed his cheek against Jared’s palm. Grabbed Jared’s hand when he tried to withdraw it, kept it against his face.

“What do you _want_ , Jensen?”

No reply except more and harder rubbing. And then a gentle nip against his palm. Very gentle, eyes on Jared; an excited, breathy pant and a flinch even though Jared did nothing. Another bite, playful, and Jensen moved his face a little just to put it back in Jared’s hand, and then it was obvious.

Jared yanked his wrist free of Jensen’s hold so he could slap him. A light pop against that warm cheek, another gasp from Jensen, but he braced himself, hands on Jared’s chest. So Jared did it again; harder, carefully, and they both moaned when Jensen rolled his hips, one leg between Jared’s so his soft cock was smooshed against Jared’s thigh.

“Is that it?” Jared whispered even though he knew there wouldn’t be an answer.

Jensen surprised him by nodding. He tried to keep his face in Jared’s hand as he straddled Jared. And Jared waited until he was settled, stable, before hitting him once more. That one hurt, made the omega twitch, but he brought himself right back into position. Moved his hands down and dug between them for Jared’s trapped cock. Pulled it free, played with it while Jared spanked his cheek; switched to the other so they would match, blush-pink, then sunburnt-red, and Jared’s hand stung. He moved to Jensen’s chest, pinching both nipples at once, and when Jensen merely sighed and rolled his shoulders back like he had tits to offer up, Jared tugged on them. Pulled hard until he got a pained little pout from the omega. Slapped him again when it seemed like he’d forgotten about it. Caught him with his mouth slightly open, made his teeth clack together, and the noise Jensen made caused Jared’s cock to jump.

Jensen looked down between them, then up under his lashes at Jared. Asking permission with his eyes, and Jared gave it to him. Grabbed his ass and hefted him up, holding onto him as Jensen scooted forward. As if being slapped stripped him of fear and nervousness, the omega moved like a pornstar. His back bowed, belly out; mouth open, and it was good, so fucking good when Jensen sank down on him.

Arched, exposed, eyes on Jared’s, and they fit together perfectly, Jared locked like a puzzle piece between Jensen’s thighs. The way Jensen rolled his hips had his red, wet cock slapping against his belly until Jared grabbed it. Jensen grunted and his head dropped back for a second before he centered himself again.

“Make me come, Jared?” he asked, grinding down, taking every last inch of Jared he could into himself. “Can I, Alpha? Please?” He bit his lip when Jared didn’t answer right away (couldn’t; he was so deep, could feel Jensen’s body so slick and tight and hot, like a furnace around him). Moaned, rose up off Jared, dropped down hard, made them both gasp when it kind of hurt. Jensen put a hand to his right cheek, rubbed against it like a cat being petted; touched fingertips to the welts Jared’s fingers had left while his cock dripped on Jared’s wrist.

Jared stroked him with a tight fist. A fleeting thought: how many times had Jensen done this? Come on a real Alpha’s cock? Even institutionalised, omegas had rights. But had he been too dangerous? Maybe he’d been given extra medication, or maybe only allowed a doctor-prescribed, Alpha-scent toy to get him through his heats. That was a better thought than—

Jensen hummed, focused Jared back on him, away from the images of his omega without an Alpha to take care of him. With silicone toys up inside him as he suffered for years and years alone, with no one to ease his aching body and give him what he needed. Or _worse_ , that there had indeed been Alphas there with him, more than willing to do what Jensen had surely begged of them.

“Alpha.” A drawn-out sound, patient, amused even, waiting for Jared to see him again, really _see him._ He knew what he looked like, Jared realised. How beautiful he was. Drowsy blinking, sucking at his own perfect lips. Shoulders back, thighs shivering around Jared’s hips, all of it like he was offering his body even though Jared was too big for him. He snapped his hips, jerking his dick out of Jared’s hand just to make Jared snatch it up again. He smiled, open-mouthed, and fucked his dick through Jared’s fist.

“Fuck. Jen, yeah—do that—”

He did, and he pretended as long as he could that it was more important to hump Jared’s hand than to pay attention to the Alpha cock up his ass, but Jared could feel it; Jensen’s body like one long hot mouth sucking on him, swallowing him to the base of his cock and ratcheting tighter, begging for a knot to seal inside. It was coming, and Jensen’s little show was over. He squawked when Jared grabbed under both his knees and yanked his legs out from under him. Spread him wide open, made him fall back so he had to catch himself on his hands and the position had Jared so deep inside him and the base of his cock fucking _ached._ A split second of pain, a familiar feeling that had hurt in an exciting way when he was young. He was used to it now, knew what it meant.

So did Jensen. He whined from his weird, strained position and Jared could see on his face how bad he wanted Jared to knot him. But he wanted something else; he clawed at the bed and struggled, but couldn’t go anywhere or he’d land on his back. That was a better place for him, Jared decided and heaved himself up. Got an arm around Jensen’s middle and shoved them both over. He couldn’t help but cringe when Jensen reached up for him. Was he going to have his eyes clawed out? But no, Jensen only wrapped his arms around Jared’s neck and held on as Jared fucked him, pounding and quick before his knot trapped them together.

“Jen—” he gasped. “Gonna—my knot—are you sure? I can—I can stop—”

A tilt of hips was his answer, Jensen swiveling his body up to take Jared’s weight. Jared accepted the posture, pushing hard, grinding inside, feeling like he could split Jensen in two, like he _wanted_ to. Crawl up inside him and nestle in his heat and hold his heart in his hands and let Jensen heal around him. And _that’s_ when Jensen came for him. Jared felt the hot spray of it between them and Jensen thrashed, eyes glazed but not—not _gone_. Jared somehow _knew_ , this time. Whatever had happened in the car, and the thing with the kid—this was different. This was his omega under him, taking his knot so perfectly _fuck_ it had never felt like this, _ever_. Jensen pulled him in, wrapping arms and legs around him, guiding Jared’s mouth to his cheek, his throat, down to his shoulder, and he made the most amazing noise when Jared licked a long stripe up his neck.

“Do it, please, Jared, _please_.” And even his voice was perfect, so clear and pleasant, begging in Jared’s ear. Jensen was _shaking_ now, and Jared broke those words up with knocks of his hips, knotted inside Jensen and seconds from coming.

He opened his mouth over Jensen’s neck and felt heels against his ass as Jensen’s whole body clenched up, excited, _ready._ But Jared didn’t do it. He growled, more like a howl, or even a scream, as he denied himself but he came anyway. Hard, like a fist to the gut almost; his orgasm was ripped out of him, and Jensen felt it too. Trashed, muttering ‘ _fuck fuck fuck_ ’ like some kind of code. Fingers brushed Jared’s eye and he jerked, ready to pin Jensen down if he was going to flip out and try to hurt him. They only fluttered over his face. Found his mouth, and he kissed them. Jensen hissed and pushed his knuckles against Jared’s cheek, but it wasn’t bad. Wasn’t meant to hurt him. A thumb stroked Jared’s lip then, and he lifted his head and looked at Jensen.

“Why?”

Jared didn’t need to have it elaborated.

“J-just a few days, Jen,” he said when he could get enough breath and will to explain, “and I will. Promise me…you’ll be okay.” Jared tried to put it in his eyes what he didn’t want to say. What he’d been contemplating— _fearing._ Resigned to when he’d come in this room. “Jen… I-I—I _want_ to. I want you, and I want this. I want to claim you, I _do_. Just…help me. Please? Don’t fight me. Don’t hurt me.” Something about that made Jensen’s brows come together, brought his teeth down hard on his own lip. Jared hurried with, “Not…n-not if you can help it,” as if he knew deep down in his bones it _would_ happen again, but so long as Jensen was doing his best… “I know. I know sometimes… But… Jensen.”

“I promise, Alpha. Jared. I’ll be good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost two years later, but it's back! But listen, my lovely readers... This fic is hard for me to write. I have, literally actually ask my beta and few friends, given up on it several times now. Nope, not gonna finish it, might as well just take it off AO3, I can't do it, etc etc. Yet words keep falling out onto the screen somehow. It's fighting for its life, so I figured I would update to let you know that it and I are not dead in the water! However, I'm /probably/ not going to publish any more chapters after this until I have the story complete. I want to make sure I don't fuck it up, for one thing, and I just know it's gonna take a long time to pull this story out of me. But I'm here, I'm not giving up on it! Thank you for your patience, and your comments and kudos and any attention at all, it means the world to me.


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